#why every time i study random thoughts always haunt me

[amiamiiku]

Y/n: I'm not even worth it for you

EJ: Who said that? Your heart is worth $1.4 million, your cornea is $30,000, your lung is $862,000, your liver is $813,000, your kidney is $415,000, and your bone marrow is $893,000. Never say something like that okay? You're worthy

Y/n: ...

[perseephoneee]

okie dokie does a Dean Winchester x reader fic work? Had an idea way back in s1 when jess first dies, (older sister, who kinda takes sam under her wing) reader ended up meeting dean through sam. They had similar personalities but (reader) was more of a hopeless romantic than Dean. Sam on the other hand could totally see them together but Dean always denied it.

“Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak, you creep” “The hell? I do not do that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

so they left ca and travelled and maybe in s2-3 (doesnt have to be accurate) they end up back in ca because of a case or cause reader called sam for help. (not expecting dean to show up as well) and after shes not in danger, turns out they get along really well.

"Im not an arm rest, dean." "Mhm, then why are you so short?" "I'M 5'3 THATS NORMAL"

and just fluff..? idk man let me know if its not what you want to write, i can totally change it💜

not a steak (dean winchester x f!reader)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ 1k celebration

wow remember when i could actually write things in a timely manner? yeah, me neither. i miss those days (that never existed). whomp whomp.

You don't necessarily remember the exact moment that you met Sam. He's been a constant in your life since you were his TA as an undergraduate, watching this freakishly tall freshman so eager to succeed in your class. He made your heart soft, and he made you feel protective. Even though he was so much bigger than you, a naivety in his persona made you take extra time to ensure he succeeded. He ended up getting an A in the class.

You do remember when you met Dean, however. You had heard stories of Dean from Sam the few times you'd catch lunch outside of school. By this point, you were a grad student, filling the void of the older sibling that Sam unconsciously needed filled. You never pried for too many details, and that's how you got people to shut up really fast. But you did meet Dean right as he left town to look for his Dad. Dean was coarse and dismissive of you as if you were just another roadblock stopping him from taking his brother. When you finally got his attention, it was just to size you up before wordlessly climbing into his car. Sam seemed apologetic, but mostly, you were just worried. You had every right to be. Jessica died a week later.

The thing about you is that you can't let a dead dog lie. Where's the fun in that? You'd much rather figure out ways to raise them.

Sam was brilliant, but he let enough details slip to allow you to research him. And you were a law graduate student; you knew a thing or two about studying. Random newspaper clippings, shoutouts of various names, and blog posts allowed you to figure out the supernatural aspect of his life that he had kept from you. You should've been more surprised, but you were more excited than anything. There was more out there. What a strangely relieving thought.  

This knowledge proved helpful when you realized you had a poltergeist.

The new place you moved into was charming and Victorian, the dream of everyone with a Pinterest board. It was in fairly decent shape, and with your roommates, you guys thought you could polish it up to something livable during your suffering years of graduate school. Unfortunately, the price was too good to be true, which led to the unfortunate circumstance of hauntings culminating in one of your roommates in the hospital, barely alive. You called Sam that night.

"Hey Sam, it's me…" you trailed off at that, feet tucked under you as the machines' beeping cut through the silence. "I need your help."

The next day, he was at your door, enveloping you in a hug. He smelled exactly the same, and you didn't realize how much you missed him. Dean was with him.

"I'm Dean," he nodded, holding out a hand. You raised a brow.

"We've met."

"I would've remembered someone who looks like you," Dean scoffs, an easy smirk on his lips that probably made many women swoon. You just rolled your eyes, going back into your house and hoping Sam followed.

A week later, the boys were still here. This ghost was frustrating, and it was more the principle of it that was pissing you off more than anything. You let the brothers stay at the house since it was safer in numbers and cheaper. Plus, your roommates took a wide berth of the place before returning. A routine developed in the short time they were here. You cooked breakfast, Sam made coffee, and Dean woke up at some point. You and Sam would enjoy the paper before something happened (usually related to the crossword that Dean was totally not interested in), and you ended up bickering with the older Winchester until Sam got fed up with it and shut it down.

"Stop eyeing her like she's a piece of steak," Sam muttered to Dean when you weren't around, having stormed off to some other corner of the house. Dean almost spit out his coffee.

"The hell? I do not do that. I have no clue what you're talking about."

Sam just nodded, hiding a smirk behind his book as Dean grumbled about not checking you out.

For the first time that week, Sam was out that night. He was following "a lead." What that lead was, no one knew, but it meant you were alone. With Dean. In a house. Without supervision.

You grumbled something about making dinner. Dean followed you.

"Are you lost?" you asked, hands on your hips as Dean plopped himself at the counter.

"I'm following the food."

"Of course you are."

"Please, no more rabbit food," Dean groaned. "I can't take it anymore."

"Oh no, definitely not," you smirked, pulling out some steaks from the fridge you had been saving. Dean's eyes immediately lit up. "You're helping me cook these. I'm not letting your dumb ass sit around while I prepare a meal."

"You're bossy," Dean grumbles but doesn't complain further as he removes his flannel and sets it on the chair. You ignore that he looks really good in a t-shirt and return to grabbing ingredients. To his credit, Dean is good at letting you tell him what to do and following through. He is definitely a better chef than Sam, who has burned many things in your kitchen. Dean is an excellent sous chef. You tell him as such.

"The hell? I am not a sous," he says while furiously stirring butter.

"It's a compliment, you knobhead."

"Knobhead? What 1950s show are you living in?"

This conversation went back and forth for a while. But you finished cooking a meal, which is always considered a success in your book. Dean devoured him almost immediately before you could even finish cutting through it. Then, it was just you attempting to finish your meal in peace. This was difficult, as Dean continuously kept eyeing your food, hoping you might give it to him, and then would complain outwardly when you didn't.

"You're not going to finish it," he drank his beer, once again looking at your dinner. You glared.

"I can finish it."

"A girl like you doesn't finish an entire steak."

That comment pissed you off. You finished your steak in two bites, shocking Dean, and then proceeded to grab his glass of beer and down it in one gulp. You slammed the glass down, raising a brow. "You have no clue what type of girl I am."

You grabbed both your plates and made your way to the kitchen, putting them in the sink and starting to clean the dishes. You barely made it through a plate before Dean pushed you out of the way.

"Dean—"

"I'm not questioning your ability, but in my world, the one who doesn't cook cleans. So, sit your ass down," Dean said before you could chew him out. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat down, still glaring at him as he washed each dish meticulously and put them either in the dishwasher or on the drying rack. When he was done, he threw the dishtowel over his shoulder. The domesticity made you soften. "I'm sorry for earlier."

You blinked, not really expecting any sort of apology from Dean Winchester. You did expect that you would not get anything besides those words.

"I don't understand women."

You laughed at that, leaning on your hand with your elbow on the table. "Aren't you a self-proclaimed ladies' man?"

"I know how to sleep with women, but I don't get what goes through your heads," Dean leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "You want one thing and then a different thing, and I can't keep up."

"So, you're admitting you're slow." Dean threw the towel at you. "Women aren't that complicated; men are just bad listeners. You included."

"I can listen."

"Really? What was I frusterated about at dinner?" you challenged, getting off your seat and leaning over the counter. He blinked a few times.

"That I kept asking for your steak?"

"No, that you presumed that as a woman, I couldn't finish a steak."

"Well, that's not what I said," Dean replied, getting defensive. You just rolled your eyes, grabbing the wine bottle on the counter.

"Oh, also, insight into women; they lie about how good men actually are in the bedroom," you winked, leaving the room and taking the wine with you. You could almost hear Dean's jaw drop.

"It ain't a lie, princess," he intercepted you, his stupid legs moving much faster than yours. You frowned but didn't say anything. Dean took a breath, locking eyes with you. "Why do you insist on always pushing my buttons?"

"Because it's fun? Because you're both annoying and easy to annoy?" you shrugged, clutching your wine bottle to your chest. You didn't know why you picked on him, besides the fact he could be an absolute ASS sometimes that needed kicking. No, you suppose it goes back to early schoolyard days where instead of 'flirting,' you'd push the person and maybe claim to the entire class that they had cooties. To this day, you still had no idea what cooties exactly were, just that you never wanted to catch them.

"I think you like me," Dean smirked. He had crowded you against the wall leading to the living room. Your wine was an innocent bystander clutched to your chest. Maybe not as tall as Sam, but you still had to look up to see him. "I'm gonna prove it."

"Excuse me?" you breathed any sort of bite to your words caught in your throat as he reached up to your face and stroked your cheek. His hands found purchase holding your neck, tilting your face even higher and infinitely closer. Dean took the wine bottle out of your hands, your last line of defense, and stepped away for a second to put it back on the counter. His hands found your face again.

"Hey princess," he whispered, voice sultry. "Breathe." You couldn't do such a thing even if you wanted to because his lips were on yours, and he tasted like the draft beer in your fridge and apple pie. He was gentle, too gentle, and you wanted more. Your hands, first unsure of what to do, grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. One of his hands moved to your waist, thumb brushing the exposed skin where your shirt rode up. He was everywhere all at once, masculinity encapsulated, and you were drowning in it. He pulled away, letting you breathe, the command you forgot to follow. "I wanted to do that since I saw you."

"Bullshit."

"Honest to god— well, not god, but honest— but then you had to go and be increasingly difficult," Dean scoffed, still holding on to you.

"You don't even remember the first time we met."

"Of course I do; it was a week after my Dad disappeared," Dean responded. "You were wearing pajamas and had a raincoat wrapped around you as you asked Sam not to go so that you could figure it out together. I was curt, and you looked like you wanted to call me a thousand horrible names, but you let it go as we drove away."

You smiled a little at that. "You do remember."

"What can I say? I like pushing your buttons."

You smacked him on the chest, earning a laugh as you fought off your smile. You did finally get your wine and let Dean choose something to watch. About halfway through your movie (and three glasses of pinot noir in), you got distracted by a makeout session that would've made your teenage self swoon, but it didn't progress more than that. Neither of you wanted to go too fast. Most of the time, it was just light conversation, cuddling, and the realization that maybe you two were much more alike than you thought.

Both of you fell asleep like that on the couch, blissfully unaware of the morning light. Sam came home early in the morning, dropping his bags before seeing the both of you entwined on the couch. A smile crossed his face.

"Finally."

taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea @qardasngan @evasmlp

[laurmaupilled]

Hello and welcome back to

Dungeons and Diaries,

a minecraft diaries dungeons and Dragons AU. in my last post i went over the main characters of Diaries – except for maybe zane – and so this week i thought i might go over some side characters from season 1 and 2, excluding villains. and so here is

Diaries side characters if they were in Dungeons and Dragons!

i would also like to clarify, quite a bit of what i use is homebrew. not my own personal homebrew, but primarily classes made by others and posted online; i should have said that in my last post, but i use a dnd character manager that blends homebrew so seamlessly with canon content that i don't even think about it. basically every character in my last post had homebrew in their build! that's why some classes or backgrounds may seem unfamiliar. if there's anything anyone would like clarification on i would be happy to elaborate a bit more on anything, and i will be marking homebrew/unofficial content with a star (⋆). now with that out of the way, we will start with my personal favorite of this bunch:

Lucinda

› lvl 7 / half-elf / requiem of the haunt grave warden ⋆

› far traveler background

› okay so. as much as i love her, i have always, ALWAYS had an issue with lucinda's backstory. i always found it a little cheap and random and i always found the reaction to magic/magicks in this world inconsistent and confusing (for example: kc/nana says her magic is outlawed, and so does lucinda, and even zoeys to an extent... but when sasha and Castor do magic nobody really bats an eye? and honestly, as much as they say it, nobody ever has any kind of averse reaction to their outlawed magic with the exception maybe of lord luke? very strange). anyway that's a topic for another day – my point is i wanted there to be a legitimate reason for lucinda to be feared and for her magic to be outlawed, and necromancy seemed like an obvious choice to me. i played around with her class for a bit, bouncing from a death cleric to a school of necromany wizard to a spiritualist. i eventually chose grave warden because it feels the most innately... evil? grave wardens are obsessive necromancers and their whole lives revolve around their work, which i think is an interesting angle for lucinda.

› her far traveler background stems from the fact her studies take her all around the world, and the fact that she is welcome in very few corners of it, making it difficult to place down roots in any one location. she owns towers in many remote villages across the map, and travels between them as needed, meaning she's never in one place for very long.

› lucinda's interest in necromancy began as a teenager, when she had a finger in many different magical pies. initially written off by her dad as teenage eccentricity, he had no major concerns over it until it turned into less of an interest and more of a fixation... and then a borderline obsession, with her slowly growing withdrawn and practicing some, uh, vaguely unethical hobbies in private. when she left she wasn't necessarily kicked out of pikoro – as by the time lord luke told her to leave the village, she was practically already gone. she does have a tower outside pikoro village, but she is unwelcome within the town, and the local children are told to give it a wide berth.

› after years of intense study, necromancy and dark magic come as second nature to lucinda. although the clutter of her towers is a grim sight to anyone else, her undead servants and cadavers no longer bother her. her dark powers have also physically changed her, with dark veins spider-webbing across her skin, which is pale and cold in an unnatural, distinctly corpse-like way.

› on a more light-hearted note, bigglesworth is lucinda's undead servant, a shadowy little owl which she created to keep her company.

KC/Nana

› lvl 6 / shifter tabaxi / battle smith artificer

› failed merchant background

› to preface: for the purpose of this au, i have reflavored tabaxi into a type of shifter. as you may guess, the continent of tu'la is therefore primarily populated by shifter tabaxi (aka the meif'wa). i chose to do this because 1. i like the idea of nana going full kitty cat mode, and 2. i feel like this better mirrors the werewolves, which is cool i guess i dont know. in their base form, like shifters, tabaxi are simply humanoids with strong cat-like features, and when they shift, instead of simply enhancing those features they "become" full tabaxi (but they're actually always tabaxi, and tabaxi are just now a race of shifters. hopefully this makes sense?). also, if you couldnt tell, kawaii~chan is going to be called nana, and she is no longer going to act Like That.

› of course, my decision to make her an artificer comes from her little maids. while she can create a range of magical items, she mostly sticks to dolls or somewhat innocuous items that make travel and work easier.

› in my au, nana is a refugee from tu'la, which is under extreme tyrannical rule by their king, and grew up poor. she was loved by her parents but lonely as a kid, and her creation of dolls to keep her company is how she eventually discovered her own kind of artificing, and the ablility to imbue her dolls with life, which she kept secret from mostly everyone. after her parents died, she fled to ru'aun to pursue a better life, and out of fear of being arrested or forced into a military position. she briefly found success running a bakery in o'khasis, but eventually she simply couldn't handle the hostility as a refugee any more, and left the city to strike out on her own, searching for a new place to put down new roots. this is why she has the failed merchant background.

› her "steel defender" is a very large anthropomorphic lamb doll, which both helps protect her on the road and transports her goods.

Zoey

› lvl 8 / fey eladrin / school of abjuration wizard

› hermit background

› with zoey, the existence of elves in dnd kind of threw a wrench into her whole Thing. because elves are so commonplace in this world i of course didn't want to make her just an elf, and so i ultimately decided to take it a step further with zoey and make her an eladrin. in this world eladrin typically live exclusively in the feywild, but zoey was born in a fey village that sits on an intersecting point between realms, causing it to warp between realms at random and making it extremely difficult to locate. despite this, the village was highly sought after and often under siege and so, instead of being ousted from her village, zoey left it willingly to study abjuration magic, hoping to better protect it. however, when she returned she found that her husband and son no longer welcomed her and, unable to face her community or family, she left to live a life of solitude (until she met aphmau, that is).

› i gave her the hermit background because i imagine her village had strict laws and was extremely disconnected from the outside world. besides that, she didn't live in a village with others after she left (i.e. she was not in the same village as donna), but lived on her own in a remote forest, only seeing people on the rare occasion that she travelled to sell goods. she's not fully used to outside customs or being around so many other people yet, which is why she spends so much time taking care of the children.

Nicole

› lvl 6 / mountain dwarf / path of the battlerager barbarian

› smuggler background

› ok i actually really love what i did with nicole in this au lol. for starters, i chose barbarian for her because it's the class that feels the most "brute strength" to me. i did consider monk, but it almost felt too "clean" for what i was going for with her, though as she got older i might put some levels into monk or gear her towards that more. either there's no specific reason for path of the battleranger, or i've forgotten what it was, lol. i think it was just because that's a dwarf-exclusive subclass. regardless, i chose barbarian because i wanted nicole to be extremely strong.

› i chose to make her a mountain dwarf because, of course, dwarves are extremely skilled in stone and metalworking. in this au, scaleswind actually started as a clan of mountain dwarves, but over many centuries grew into a large city and is now extremely diverse; while all kinds of races and classes now occupy scaleswind, the noble family still consists solely of mountain dwarves. however, despite being dwarves, the noble family has mostly lost their "touch", so to speak, and don't often take up the stoneworking that their ancestors did.

› unlike garroth, nicole left scaleswind at a much younger age. although she wasn't yet in an arranged marriage, it was almost a certainty, and nicole never really felt like she belonged in her family in the first place, as one of the few nobles still interested in stonework (or, in her case, borderline obsessed, feeling an almost spiritual connection with stone, the mountains, the earth). i gave her the smuggler background because when she ran away she established her underground tunnels as a way to traverse the continent unnoticed, but eventually began using them as smuggling routes. typically she smuggles refugees or other people in need, but she will smuggle almost anything for the right price.

and there's my second post for this au Hehe i had a lot of fun with these! i think i'd like to do villains next, or maybe some more side characters if i can think of enough (kiki just screams druid, cmon now). tell me what you think of this one if you want ... thanks 4 reading see u next time

[rekino2114]

Going to a haunted house with the drdt girls

A/n:At the start, I wanted to do this just for Veronika, but then I expanded it

Teruko tawaki

She needed a bit of convincing to come, she thought it was childish but once you gave her puppy eyes she couldn't resist.

She'll be very protective of you the entire time, always holding your hand and holding you tightly when you get scared.

She doesn't get scared easily, but if someone jumps from behind her she might punch them like she did to Veronika, if she doesn't just take out her knife.

"I swear if you do that one more time I will stab you"

"Teru calm down its just a worker"

Min jeung

She also needed some convincing to come not because she didn't want to but because she had to study, but after you convinced her that she needed to take a break and she was still gonna be fine she accepted

She's a very logical person and that translates to her not being that easy to scare cause she doesn't believe in ghosts and stuff like that but if something startles her she'll cling onto you for comfort.

She'll point out random facts about stuff she sees, and if she sees you're scared she'll try to comfort you with those facts and logic

"Don't be scared y/n, those types of spiders aren't venomous, if they bite you nothing will happen"

"....t-thanks?"

Arei nageishi

It actually was her idea to go, to show off how brave and strong she is and because she was bored.

She'll tease you a lot if you get scared calling you a crybaby, but she actually loves it cause she gets to hold you and protect you(she'll never admit it)

She also doesn't get scared easily but if a worker tries to she'll either punch them or verbally abuse them

"Ah! Y/n did you see that? What an idiot, you have to do waaaaaay better to actually scare me! So pathetic!"

Hu jing

She's on board with whatever date ideas you have. As long as you spend time together, she doesn't really care where you go, even a haunted house.

She'll hold you all the time even if you're not scared. She just loves doing that, and it's a great way to comfort you. Whenever you do get scared, she hugs you tighter and whispers soothingly.

Like the mom she is she scolds any workers who scare you too much or go too far

"Shh, it's OK honey don't be scared, I'm here ok?"

J rosales

When you proposed the idea to her she sounded pretty stoked to go, she was acting brave but she was kinda scared to go but too embarrassed to admit that.

She kept that attitude throughout the date, she tried to keep a brave and protective face but how she shivered and yelped whenever she was scared kinda betrayed her

However she brags about how she can make better effects than any the house may have.

"Aaah! ...what? I-it wasn't that scary"

"Then why did you scream?"

"I-I was just surprised that's all"

Veronika grebenshchikova

You can bet it was 100% her idea, and she pestered you until you said yes.

The whole time she's just giggling and fangirling over every little thing,you have no reason to be scared when your girlfriend is just laughing about everything she sees, but if you do get scared she'll hold your hand and tell you to not be cause this is so much fun.

She tries to take pictures of the place even if it's not allowed, the workers are ironically too scared of her to say anything.

"Hey darling did you see those decorations,I want to put them in my house so much, where do you think I can buy them?"

Rose lacroix

She probably agreed to your idea when she was half asleep without really realizing what it actually was.

During the date, she doesn't show much emotions, she doesn't feel fear often and it's not easy to scare her(maybe because she remembers every horror she ever watched perfectly so she knows when to expect jumpscares). She probably feel asleep in the middle of your date cause she was bored

She doesn't know what to do if you're scared,she'll just silently hold you cause she heard it helps.

"*yawn* oh sorry y/n, did I fall asleep again? Sorry it was kinda boring can we go home?"

[thatimageoftomscott]

I am not part of the tom scott thirst in any way, but this blog is the funniest thing to me because

unsolicited silly tom scott pictures 🤭

i know a lot of random facts from his videos and watching other people enjoy them, even if it's not always for education is great 🫣

it makes watching jet lag the game 10x funnier with this perspective of silly things tom does

so thanks for that, this makes my day every time i see it so keep doing what you're doing. thirsting or learning or both. whatever.

hell yeah !!!!!! unsolicited silly tom scott pictures are definitely amongst the best kind of unsolicited pictures one could receive.

oh we also enjoy the funfacts. at least i know i am. the impressively thought out videos and cool infrastructure is how he lures you in. after that its just a matter of if you will get obsessed with his work enough to start seeing him in your dreams and then its just all downhill from there. at least thats how it was for me.

and yes hard agree !!!!!! thats why im spreading the word here. next time he puts his thumb in his mouth i want everyone who has seen my posts about it to notice and go 🫵 i want you to be slightly haunted by the knowldege of what that man was getting up to during his uni years at all times. thats the only way to fully appreciate him in all his multifaceted beauty.

aaaand :] super happy to hear that this mess makes your day ! ! you people have all been lovely from jltg fans who barely knew who tom is before s13 to tomrades who have been studying this man since before i even really was on tumblr. glad we are all having fun !!

[skellebonez]

A Trip For Two?

The final fic for @lunar-wandering's Monkie Destiny Challenge! I WAS doing 8 prompts per "week", sometimes using both prompts per day and sometimes just one. This one includes:

... a lot fdkjgfdkslj. I was only able to implement a few random ones.

Happy Halloween!

AO3 Link!

“I can't believe you convinced me to do this,” Pigsy said with a grunt, hand held against the wall as he followed it toward their destination through the pitch black darkness.

“I can't believe you agreed to it only the second time I asked,” Tang countered, a soft excited but nervous laugh echoing softly.

To be fair, Pigsy had always wanted to try one of these escape rooms. He just never got around to finding the time or the right one close enough to give it a shot. Why Tang wanted to go to a murder mystery themed one specifically was easy enough, he wanted to give all his recent extra study focus a new target.

He’d been extra focused ever since the incident with Azure, no more cramming at the last second for anything. Granted, he DID change up his method of study from the one that Shifu Subodhi had him work with, but this new one seemed to work better for him in the long run when balancing the rest of his life duties. Heck, he’d even applied himself to helping Pigsy research different methods of cooking ingredients to elevate his noodles even further.

But he’d also been getting antsy. Not just because of any reason related to his studies, though he was getting more and more frustrated with not “having a better fitting challenge” every so often, antsy with all the stuff going on around them. The constant endangerment, new enemies at every corner, new powers he seemed to continue to need to master and experiment. He thought they needed something that Pigsy hadn’t had in decades.

A vacation.

So, of course, Tang figured he could kill two birds with one stone. An escape room meant a challenge he could meet head on. And this one was offering a prize to anyone who could beat it within a certain time limit. One romantic getaway for two in Guilin, where Tang promised to take him to the Yulong river when they win this.

Tang was overwhelmingly positive they would.

Pigsy had… reservations.

“Tang, you know I’ve never been good with riddles,” Pigsy protested with a snorting laugh.

“No, but you ARE good at problem solving in other ways!” Tang boasted as he looked their pamphlet over. “I’ve seen you somehow manage to Tetris in all those ingredients in your supply cabinet for the shop.”

“That’s just work brain.”

“Well your work brain and my school brain may be brilliant enough to solve this challenge and get us that romantic getaway prize.”

Pigsy couldn’t help the soft smile that crept on his face at Tang’s boasting. It was sweet, how much confidence he had in the two of them.

But Pigsy also knew that as brilliant as he knew Tang to be… he also got stuck on the crossword puzzle on the city’s homepage last week. Three letter word for mirthful.

The answer way “gay”.

They were, probably, doomed. But at least this would be fun!

Pigsy chose to believe that as they finally reached the doorway at the end of the hall, Tang eagerly opening the door to allow them inside the main escape room.

The room wasn't terribly big, all things considered. Roughly the size of the entire dining area and kitchen of Pigsy’s, it was styled like a typical western study one might see in a mansion in an American movie. If it was horribly ransacked and clearly burgled, and also meant to look possibly Haunted. If the old stains and spider webs and the creepy doll on a shelf by the exit were any indication.

So Pigsy had to give the Escape Room crew points for detail! Just crowded enough to look realistic, but not so crowded it would make the game too hard to complete at all. But it did make it clear why this room took over the prize time limit to complete for most participants. Even he was a little overwhelmed and wondering where they should start looking in all of the clutter around them.

It didn't take long for them to find the first clue, or to solve it. Ironically, it seemed like this particular one was timed and they just had to wait a moment for the TV to come on to find the next clue. In fact... most of the clues in the room seemed to come easy to them.

Right until the 6th clue, a note in a vase lead them to a riddle on the wall and, quite frankly, it made no sense.

“I made quick work of the mountain chicken to hide my motive.”

Pigsy didn’t know what the hell this clue could have meant. If a mountain chicken wasn’t a chicken… what the fuck was it? Some other kind of bird? A lizard? A salamander?

“It’s a frog,” Tang said confidently.

“How in the world did you know a mountain chicken is a frog?”

“I didn’t,” Tang said with a shrug. “But this reference book fell off the shelf and the bookmarked page was for that frog. It’s probably meant to be a clue for people who don’t know that already, it falling saved us a LOT of time!”

Yeah… just like how the TV coming on via a supposed timer gave them the clue earlier…

Was this game rigged?

... couldn't be.

But, somehow, it was right there. A broken statue of a frog that looked exactly like the Mountain Chicken in Tang's reference book. And hidden inside one of the cracks was a torn slip of newspaper, revealing who Pigsy assumed must have been the culprit and their motive for this little murder mystery.

“Hey Tang?”

“Yes, Pigsy?”

“Hasn't this seemed a little... too easy?” The chef asked, eyebrow raised in confusion.

“I think we've just gotten really lucky,” Tang said with a smile. “And we HAVE had to puzzle out all but two of the clues ourselves anyway. We're also still really close to the end time and we have one clue left...” Pigsy hummed, nodding as he realized Tang was right. They may have gotten everything pu t together, but they only had 5 minutes to put the clues together in the correct order in the little computer next to the exit door. They were still going to have to work fast to win this challenge.

As they rushed over to the computer he couldn't help but see Tang's wide smile. He was so EXCITED at the idea of winning this. Was he just happy that he could win something that he had to solve? Or was he happy that he was possibly going to win a romantic getaway with his husband? Pigsy didn't know...

But as long as Tang smiled like that? He found he didn't really care either way. He just wanted him to smile more.

“OK, so we have to put this together like... oh gosh, it's Cludo,” Tang said with a laugh. “We have to put all this stuff in like a Cludo answer but with more steps.”

“Well that's easy!” Pigsy said with a laugh. “Mr…uh… what was his name?”

“Chandler.”

“Yeah, Chandler!”

“AH, right, Mr. Chandler stole the study key and killed Mr. Doe -aka Mr. Bennet-, in the kitchen with poison and moved him to the study to make it look like the owner of the mansion did it since only he had the key!” Tang said triumphantly. “Great job, Pigsy!”

He smiled wide, turning around to grab Pigsy and plant a passionate kiss on his lips and-

Wait…

Pigsy pulled back from the kiss as the exit door opened, looking at Tang in confusion.

“I… I didn't remember his name,” he said softly.

“… I didn't either,” Tang admitted, looking around in confusion.

“Then who-”

“You're going to miss your deadline,” the mystery voice said again. From high up. And when they looked up they noticed the creepy doll on the shelf had moved, turning to stare down at them with blank glassy eyes. “… run.”

Pigsy and Tang ran faster out of that room than they ever had before. So fast they didn't notice the giggle and the soft whisper of “I hope they like their vacation” they emanated from the room before the door closed behind them.

They did, by the way.

Even if they were very cautious of escape rooms after that.

[notnctu]

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst  wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi​​​ ; @darkneogotmyback​​​ ; @im-lame-irl​​​ ; @p-mini​​​ ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck​​​ ; @saniahmichael​​ ; @jaehy9ngs​​​ ; @danyxthirstae01​​​ ; @jaehyunoos​​​ ; @pikijaemin​​​ ; @suhweo​​​ ; @yunoyeol​​​ ; @lanadreamie​​​ ; @ta3ilmoon​​​ ; 

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating. 

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart. 

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well. 

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.  

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you. 

[norangeyyy]

Late Night HCs

Bucci Gang Edition

TW: nothing too extreme, just a little bit of hurt/comfort stuff sprinkled right here and there.

Bruno Bucciarati

► Bucciarati typically doesn't stay up late at night, he has work and would squeeze all the amount of sleep he can get on his free time.

► Unless he has a lot of things in mind.

► It doesn't matter whether it's a work-related problem, his past, a random thought, or just generally his worries about his future. It will keep him up.

► He'll definitely need someone to be an outlet but if no one's available, he'll just stare at the night sky and distract himself with the moving clouds or finish some of his work until he's too tired to think of anything.

► If you happen to be in the same situation and same place that night though, then make sure that you take care of the trust he has for you when he was at most vulnerable and he will do same with you.

► I personally headcannon Bucciarati to be the type to like those kind of conversations since i highly doubt that he has been so vulnerable in front of anyone besides Abbachio ever since he joined the mafia.

► And even then, he's mostly the one who lifts the spirits up and not the other way around since he's the leader.

► So expect to hear things and words you wouldn't expect to come from the Bucciarati you see everyday come spilling out of his mouth, it'll be a lot.

► Pat his back or better yet, give him a hug and brush his hair while doing so. He needs it a lot since he hasn't really got one after his family fell apart.

► "I feel so much better now, thank you. I'll make sure not to forget about this night. "

Leone Abbachio

► The night owl of the gang.

► Staying up until 3AM is nothing new to this man, hell, he could even go on a whole day without sleep if he has a lot of things that's bothering him.

► He's the opposite of Bucciarati, he prefers to shoulder his intrusive thoughts alone. It'd take some great amount of effort and trust to make him talk and let it out.

► What he does during those times is either using his stand to replay certain memories that could either worsen his guilt or put him at ease, or just drink until he passes out but most of the time, he does both.

► He could also be listening to some music while he does so but if he's feeling guilty for making Bucciarati concerned about his frequent drinking, then he'll just listen to music and hope that he'll fall asleep and not just keep his eyes closed until the sun rises.

► It works, kind of, but even without alcohol driving him to sleep, he'll always be tired. His sleeping schedule is seriously messed up because he never really cared about it in the first place.

► Would sometimes go out for a walk. Leone is fond of the city's peacefulness when everyone is asleep, with the only thing keeping him accompany is the cold air and the dim light of the lampposts.

► Secretly still has his police uniform and would occasionally take it out just to stare at it or talk to it in a not-so-kind of way as he sees his younger self in it.

► Gets dragged in whatever shit Narancia and the others are up to if he gets spotted. Mostly it's just for a movie night behind Bucciarati's back but Abbachio knows better and expects the unexpected when it comes to the gang.

► Knows what everyone does in late night if they're still up and has seen a lot of ungodly sights.

► Whether it be seeing a sleepy Mista and the pistols chanting a weird prayer to a bowl of cereals or Fugo being dragged out of his room by Narancia, Leone knows it.

Pannacotta Fugo

► Just like Bucciarati, Fugo rarely stays up late at night and if he does, it's usually just because he's busy.

► Fugo has hobbies like painting and reading, everyone in the gang knows that. It's just that he gets carried way too far sometimes and loses track of time.

► Who could blame him though when the book he's reading is just too interesting or the painting he's currently working on is almost done, right?

► On extremely rare occasions where something unpleasant enough to keep Fugo up at night happens, he'll bundle himself in his fluffy blanket like a butterfly in its cocoon.

► He always does this back when he's still living with his parents, it makes him feel safe from anything that's haunting him.

► And if it's neither his hobbies or problems that's keeping him up, he'll just hear Narancia whispering outside his door or Mista throwing pebbles at his window.

► For the first few times the duo did this, Fugo was still able to resist until he just can't anymore knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone all night.

► "Well, this isn't so bad. "

► He says as he enthusiastically tosses a popcorn into his mouth with his eyes glued all over the lit screen of the TV.

► Movie nights, along with sneaking out to go the nearest convenience store, became a common thing between the Torture Dance Trio™ ever since then.

Narancia Ghirga

► The type to wake up in the middle of the night and think "Hmm... Everyone's asleep, let's commit robbery tonight!"

► Fugo's sleep paralysis demon.

► Would literally not hesitate to steal chocolate bars with Mista and probably does 3AM challenges with him too.

► Never runs out of ideas to keep himself up at night and is the one who comes up with everything but what he does still depends on his mood.

► If Narancia's feeling a little too lazy then he'll just sleep and most of the time, with music keeping him accompany. But unlike Abbachio, he purposely doesn't wear headphones just to annoy Fugo whose room is right next to his.

► If he's feeling like it, he'll straight up just invite the others to watch a movie or play videogames even though Bruno has already made it clear not to use the TV after 11PM.

► But just as he likes staying up at night doing crazy things with the boys, he also uses his energy left and free time to self-study, as surprising that may sound.

► He may hate reading but he takes advantage of the fact that his brain is much active at night and he doesn't want to depend on Fugo too much. After all, he dreams on going back to school and he's more than willing to be capable enough to do so alone and pass without the other teen's help.

► Will cuddle anything that's near him while he studies but if you give him a plushie, it'll be instantly his favorite and he would definitely use it as a study buddy.

Guido Mista

► Alright, let's be honest here, this dude wouldn't even stay up if it weren't for his bros.

► 5 seconds lying on the bed and he's already knocked out for a good 10 hours if there's no work he has to do for the day. Make it 8 at weekdays thanks to his mafia-related responsibilities.

► He sleeps like a log so only a combination of shaking him up awake with Fugo and Narancia can make him rise from what seems like a two year coma but is really just a normal tuesday night.

► Will pretty much join Narancia at anything he does but since his last three brain cells are obviously still as half asleep as him, he won't be able to remember that much the next day.

► And once he's out of the room and is already sitting on the couch with the guys, Mista's the type to fall asleep halfway through the movie.

► You can't blame him though, it's 12AM and it seems that Fugo got to choose what movie they'll watch since Narancia already got to choose the other night.

► Unless they're playing videogames or are going out then he won't be acting like a slow ass PVZ zombie with a fried brain. Actually, he'll be hella active if that's the case.

► Active at grabbing every snack each second, that is.

► Actually, it's the pistols who does that but oh well, it's not like Mista's innocent too.

► "I swear it's not me who ate all of our groceries for this month! Right, guys?! It's the pistols! "

► And that, everyone, is how Guido blew their little rendezvous without even trying.

Giorno Giovanna

► There's not much to be said about this boy since just like Mista, Giorno goes to bed early as he makes sure he still gets the proper amount of sleep.

► He already has a lot of things to deal with at day so of course, by the end of it, he'll be exhausted.

► Nights before exams are excluded because although he may seem like he skips class sometimes, Giorno still knows his priorities.

► Only when he became the head of the mafia did he really started to lose sleep as great power comes with great responsibilities.

► It took a LONG time for Giorno to adjust to a lot of things cause come on, he maybe resilient but he's still a 15 year old teen.

► Not only does he have towers after towers of work but i like to imagine that he still continued his education and used some of the things he learns in class in the mafia, specifically in classes like history or geography class since as a boss, he has to know every nook and cranny of Italy.

► Not to mention that emergencies happen and he always has to be ready to give out orders, even if it means being woken up at 1AM.

► God, help this child because all the things mentioned above are just an understatement of what happens on the first few months of being in charge of Passione.

► "So this is why Diavolo looks like he's about to explode whenever something goes wrong huh. "

[bp-zb1fics]

Just me screaming abt KCON

(lex's list of random thoughts as they watch)

WHY DO THEY ALWAYS MAKE ONE MEMBER WEAR JORTS AND WHY IS IT ALWAYS GYUVIN PLS

Aside from that, the VCR was ayt i guess

Here I am/난 빛나 going to haunt them (and us tbh) for the rest of their career just like how 나야 나 did with Wanna One and Wannables like PTSD incoming????

But also Zhang Hao centre so deserved?? Like its a full circle moment, peak character arc development right here~

I want to talk with their stylists tho

Like??? I'm sorry I'd take the BP uniforms over whatever this is

It's giving Say My Name but give them different colored shirts that distract me

TBH the Say My Name stage outfits would have worked too, they literally just needed to make 6 more of those

Why did they do Matthew dirty with the jacket like I am bothered by that length and don’t even get me started on that shirt

BUT ALSO the individual vocals?? we love

Also for the extra observant BP fans, the way they incorporated Hao’s Me+You choreo, top tier stuff

One 난 빛나 thing I will never get tired of is the Haobin pair dance fr fr

THE WAY THEY SMILE AT EACH OTHER??? So precious

Hao is living and we are here to support it

Same that one lady wiping away a tear is me

OK SELF INTRO TIME

The way everyone introduces themselves in either Japanese or English like yes our multilingual kids

Gyuvin’s English is nearly accent less I am fascinated also man definitely practiced his sentences this time

Ik Jiwoong’s promoted in Japan before but really he’s giving veteran??

Did Matthew just say “Zerobase” or does my sleep deprived brain just not here the “one”

His smile heals my heart

Yujin so cute, it’s so obvious he practiced for it and we love

THE WAY I LITERALLY HAD TO PAUSE THE VIDEO AND TAKE A 10 MIN MENTAL BREAK AFTER HAO SAYS “HIII”

Plssavemeiswearheisntmybiasbutiamasimpforhimbutalsoirefusetochooseabiasjustyet

The little accent he had when he said “various charms in the future” like I’m sorry he sounds like literally every Chinese classmate I’ve had in uni (bc duh) like I don’t mean this that way!! (Meanies go away) it’s just that I study at a big really international university so I tend to notice the differences in accents when speaking English including my own (lol)

Hanbin is so shiny like idk what else to say

But why is his sweater that shade of pink pls

Ok and they give Taerae like one of the less bright colored outfits

And they gave Ricky a white mesh shirt…

“Did you guys miss me?” did things to my brain

Ricky also has an interesting accent when he speaks English but I’m not going to get into that

PARK GUNWOOK IS A BABY

but someone pls get his bangs out of his eyes pls

Ok I need to sleep bc it’s 3am but lemme update this tmr w the rest of their Kcon show segment

[ckret2]

Do you have any headcanons about the Hazbin's (minus Charlie) lives back when they were alive?

I scrolled through all 42 pages of the hazbin tag on my blog and literally every one of my premortem headcanons are about Alastor and Sir Pentious lmfao

So sure! Want an entire novella about my headcanons for Sir Pentious's backstory?

For Alastor, I can offer:

a traumatic toddler experience

his mother observing him with ghosts as a child

Alastor working with demons (funny)

Alastor working with demons (creepy)

Alastor and his asexuality/aromanticism (mostly postmortem but it has some premortem flashbacks)

Alastor with friends in the 20s trying to explain he does not get horny

a fic that didn't ACTUALLY happen but that demonstrates my headcanons for how he works with demons

And moving away from fics and on to tumblr posts!

For Alastor:

Alastor fought in World War I

another WWI post

headcanon about how he died (I've since changed my headcanon—hunting accident rather than manhunt—but the position's the same)

excerpt from one of the fics above about Alastor's first kiss

early headcanoning on Alastor's relationship with the queer community in life

Alastor saw but didn't learn the lindy hop in life

Alastor's accent makes people (in this case Sir Pentious) think that he's upper class when actually he's just had theater training

Alastor's family tree comes from a mix of socioeconomic backgrounds and before he died he achieved fame but not fortune

Alastor does not feel broken/insecure due to being ace/aro and never has

what people in Louisiana thought of Alastor as a radio host

what did Alastor look like (and Sir Pent)

Alastor only saw 10% of the Golden Age Of Radio and that's fucked up

fun fact when Alastor was on air radio stations weren't "just news" or "just (one genre of) music," a single station would play music and news and soap operas and sports etc

random links of queer history, 1920s gay culture, slang, and NOLA history

Alastor's mother grew up while Sir Pentious was menacing the US and she has very vivid memories of living in fear of him, and also she doesn't know her son is a cannibalistic murderer

Alastor wore glasses in life and only switched to a monocle in death

Alastor was never identified as a serial killer and there's probably unsolved true crime documentaries made about his killings (and these documentaries unknowingly use a recording of the killer's real voice, a clip from a news broadcast where Alastor read about the killings on air)

check out how hyped this newspaper in the 20s was for radio like goddamn

Alastor listened to radio all day every day

more 1920s research links

very loose overview of New Orleans race relations 1890-1920

how NOT to write about Voodoo

reminder that "alastor did magic in life" is a headcanon until we SEE him using magic before he died—also "Voodoo" is a religion not a magic power

how Alastor avoided getting caught as a serial killer

I doubt Alastor was famous enough for queer historians to have discovered he existed, only niche radio broadcast historians know about him

Alastor was raised to be courteous to (respectable) women, but not to genuinely see them as equals in a modern sense

1920s hair facts and headcanons on Alastor's hair

scene from one of the above fics of baby Alastor being haunted as shit

Alastor is a hedonistic thrill killer not a mission-oriented killer

his killing method was shooting from a distance, like hunting game

Alastor was kinda psychic in life and his psychicness interacted with radio signals

this includes developing a hella accurate sense of time

Alastor's always been hella into Mardi Gras

here he is in a ridiculous Cajun Mardi Gras costume

how the Great Depression probably affected Alastor

Alastor feels 0% empathy for other people but 500% empathy for fictional characters in musicals

For Sir Pentious:

he was so infamous that today he's a common character used in historical fiction in the same way that Victorian-era historical fiction commonly uses Queen Victoria as a character

(and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle references him in a Sherlock story)

(and he really did call himself Sir Pentious in life)

(and every character who lived after him had to study him in school, including Vaggie writing a paper about him and Alastor was cast as him in a school play)

(and now let's talk about historians dying and meeting the people they studied in Hell)

he has a son who's probably now in heaven

Sir Pent is trans

no seriously he has a son

Sir Pent has a chain of deadnames he used before settling on "Sir Pentious" and all of them are snake puns

one of Sir Pent's chosen names

based on Victorian sexual mores Sir Pent probably got kinda homoerotic with some dudes

this is just big Trans Sir Pent energy

what did Sir Pent look like (and Alastor)

I don't think Sir Pent used a wheelchair in life (but do think he had to for a while after he died)

Sir Pent is Pussyeating World Champ no I do not accept arguments

Sir Pent and his wife were very loving until his wife went "nope, you're planning world conquest, that's too evil for me"

he rigged his clothes to self-combust so he could choose death if he was ever on the verge of capture

his wife was named Helena and here's why

this is his self-destruct binder/corset

the one headcanon everyone shares

Sir Pent ain't Jack the Ripper

And there's a ton more headcanons on @dontasktheradiodemon my Alastor ask/RP blog but listen, I just went through 42 pages of one tag and it's 3 a.m., I'm not going to comb my roleplay blog for every premortem headcanon I've ever mentioned about him over there. It includes stuff like "he did deliberately shitty horoscope readings on air" and "the first time he summoned a demon he was on the Western Front and also coming down with Spanish flu so he's not sure how much of the ensuing chaos was real vs fevered hallucinations or how much was the Germans' fault vs the imp's" and "he lived a few years in New York and did drag."

These are not the only headcanons I have. These are just the headcanons I've been asked about or made time to type down. (And not counting all my postmortem headcanons. Or the premortem headcanons sprinkled into postmortem fics.) Feel free to ask me for more. Ideally with a topic you'd like to hear about; otherwise asking me "do you have any headcanons?" is like walking into a library and asking "do you have any books?" Gimme a section to start with.

[amiamiiku]

I just realized that EJ might have religious trauma

[awkwardgtace]

Secret Brother Pt1

New OCs let's go. Trying out something idk if I'll write more with these guys. Realizing some bit of traumatic past seems required in my ocs so far.

TW: mentions of abandonment. Later parts will have mentions of a borrower being treated like a pet this is entirely painted in how fuckin wrong it is and how it added to the trauma.

Part 2 Part 3 (Final)

Secret Brother Part 1

Everything started when Mikhail’s students were talking about some weird happenings in their dorm. Things were going missing and a voice was heard commonly late at night. They started to say they thought it was haunted. He offered to host a study session to disprove anything, making sure to bring his shoulder bag. It was easy enough to leave open on the ground and should be tempting enough for the ‘ghost’ to climb in. He kept a close eye out and sat near a wall he thought he saw a crack in. He was starting to worry that this wouldn’t work, until he saw a small form climbing up the edge of his bag. He didn’t like doing this, but he knew the students in this dorm were more likely to share their discovery. They were being too obvious here, probably someone who just struck out on their own. Now the dorm ‘ghost’ would be somewhere much safer and could learn the skills they needed.

Mikhail was anxious for the remainder of the session. He couldn’t be obvious for the sake of the one in his bag, and the others around him. He carefully placed his bag on his shoulder, opting to carry the books he’d used out as he continued speaking with the students. He rushed to his car, placing the bag safely on the floor of the passenger seat. He took the drive slower than normal, eyes constantly drifting to his bag. He parked and rushed straight to his door. Once inside he placed his bag on the ground, unzipped it, and pulled out a random book. He quickly walked off, settling down in a chair pretending to read. He was keeping an eye out for when his passenger left the bag. After an hour he decided to just leave the bag on the floor for a few days, give the little one time to get out.

It took a few days, but he finally heard the ‘ghost’ acting. It started with a clatter sound from his kitchen late at night. He held his breath, waiting for another sign. A voice that sounded somewhat young started mumbling. He wanted to get involved and help, but it’s never gone well in the past. He would just stay as an oblivious human and they could figure this all out. At least that was his promise to himself, but the little one was far from subtle. He could hear them talking to themselves on a daily basis, they were leaving messes, and worst of all they left trails back to their entrances. Mikhail had promised himself he wouldn’t get involved anymore, but he couldn’t leave this. He sighed, gathering what he needed to help out the inexperienced borrower.

He faked a phone call claiming he’d be gone for a few days then left shutting the door loudly. He went around to the back of his house, pulling out a fishing hook with a line attached and hanging it on the windowsill of the kitchen window. He’d left it open just enough someone the size of his guest could squeeze through. He focused on the feeling he’d grown used to over the years and watched the world slowly grow around him. In only a few seconds the world towered around him. He started climbing quickly, a little out of practice since he’d gotten his size under control.

He squeezed through the open window, reminding himself to open it just a bit more next time. Once inside he froze, he never once considered the borrower might recognize him. He considered squeezing out the window again, but was stopped before taking a step. He heard a small clatter, and saw a poorly made paper clip hook fail to catch. He heard a groan from below as the paper clip fell from the counter. He just had to hope they wouldn’t notice the similarities between the human they were living with and the new borrower in the house. He took a steadying breath then marched to the edge of the counter. The borrower was already murmuring to themselves, it was clearly a problem.

“You know you’ll get caught talking to yourself like that right?” he called down. The source of the failed hook screamed, clearly not expecting anyone to be here. Mikhail hadn’t been wrong, this was definitely a kid. They were probably a teenager, and honestly didn’t look like they’d had an easy time. He took his own hook, placing it down and throwing the string off the edge. “Climb up and we can talk. Don’t want to be too loud in case the human is around.”

The kid had no hesitation climbing up, that much trust could be dangerous. Although most people this size trusted each other almost blindly. They were worn out and panting once they were at the top of the counter, clearly new to borrowing. Had he accidentally kidnapped a young curious kid? He’d find out if anyone else was there once he’d trained the kid a bit. He gave them another minute before finally starting with his plan.

“Kid, why were you making so much noise? Half of being a borrower is being quiet especially when out in the open.” he said. The kid opened their eyes and Mikhail realized he’d made a mistake. Their eyes were watery, they must have been terrified. The kid sniffled a bit as they finally got their breath back.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” they said, “my parents didn’t really teach me how to borrow yet. W-we were on our way to a new home when a storm hit and I got separated. I wound up here by accident. I climbed in the human’s bag, I thought I saw loose threads I could use, along with some food. Th-they closed the bag on me and I wound up in this house.”

“Where were you before?” Mikhail asked. He wondered if there was a chance he could find the kid’s parents at the school.

“I’m not sure, I was dragged by water for a long time. When I got out of it I-I ran to the first building I found. I’m pretty sure they got dragged away too...” the kid’s voice was quiet. They seemed to know they weren’t going to find their parents. It sounded like there may be more to the story the kid didn’t want to mention yet. Mikhail would do everything he could to make sure they could survive on their own. He was getting attached already and he hated it.

“Well I was planning to stay here for a few days before moving on again,” he started. “I can teach you the basics. I happen to know you picked a pretty good human to live with. This one doesn’t tend to investigate small noises, but he has gotten curious from times I took too much.”

“Wait wait, you'll teach me? W-why? Isn’t it better to just move on and leave me to whatever happens?”

“Who told you that?” Mikhail’s voice went icy. The kid lost their family and just needed some guidance.

“Well, I uh, I met other borrowers who always said that. Then my parents too...sometimes.”

Mikhail was ready to scream hearing that. He’d dealt with people like that a lot since he lost his parents. He wrapped his arm around the kid’s shoulders and pulled him into a half hug. They froze but soon melted into the contact, he started rubbing his arm on their arm to calm them. The kid started to cry and Mikhail just let them. He knew they were safe and later, he’d say they should be careful. He let them go as long as they wanted, he knew sometimes you just needed times like this. The kid was the first one to pull away, looking a bit ashamed as they did so.

“I’m sorry about that,” they said. “We were lucky the human didn’t come back, I could have gotten us both caught. I-if this is where you usually live I can leave. I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I offered to teach you, didn't I? No one has to leave, besides I tend to be a bit more nomadic. My name is Mik, he and him,” he said.

“I-I,” the kid shook his head, “My name is Ian, he and him too, I think. Are you really all right to teach me?”

“Don’t worry about the he and him thing too much, if something else feels right just tell me, ok Ian?”

Ian nodded his head. Mikhail took the time to really assess him now that he didn’t have to worry about being an accidental kidnapper. He didn’t look like he’d had much to eat recently, although that wasn’t uncommon for borrowers. His clothes were a bit baggy, and needed some patching. Mikhail may try to pull some tricks with his shifting to get him some better clothes. Ian seemed to be at least a full inch shorter than Mikhail, which wasn’t reassuring if they ever met when he was human.

“Ian, how old are you?” he finally asked. He needed an idea before deciding the next steps.

“I-I’m seventeen, or well I’m almost seventeen.”

Mikhail nodded, a little surprised he was that old. Ian was just a teenager after all. He knew what to do then. First they’d make a better hook, then practice having it catch on tables and counters. Then how to grab supplies without leaving a trace. He’d leave him with the fish hook once the few days he gave himself were up. The fish hook and line is sturdier, and would last with fewer replacements longer. Perfect for someone still just learning, plus he could just start a collection of random hooks to leave out.

“All right, here's the plan,” Mikhail explained. It didn’t take more than that for Ian to get excited. He trailed behind Mikhail hanging on every word, mouthing the important things. Mikhail felt like he had a little brother with how this was going. He couldn’t deny that he was enjoying being with Ian like this. It’s been a while since he really spent time with people outside of work. By the time the weekend ended and ‘Mik’ had to move on, neither was happy with it. Mikhail knew Ian would get better without trouble, but he didn’t want to leave him alone.

They were sitting in Ian’s home, set up a lot better with the supplies they grabbed safely over two days. Ian had gotten into a habit of staying almost on top of Mikhail while in the home, like he thought he’d disappear. It left Mikhail with a sour feeling, knowing he had to leave the kid at least for the week. He jumped a little as that thought crossed his mind. He could, probably, keep this up on the weekends. Eventually Ian would see the human’s face and he may put two and two together, until then he could keep this up. He’d only come back until he was positive Ian wasn’t being reckless, if he went a week without seeing him then ‘Mik’ would come to say goodbye. It would work fine and then Ian wouldn’t have to deal with everything that’s happened alone.

“Can I go with you?” Ian asked, it knocked Mikhail from his thoughts. Mikhail looked at him with a sad smile shaking his head. “Why not? You said I was doing well. I can get used to being an outdoors borrower. Or, or just a traveling one or whatever. Please?”

“It’s too dangerous. Maybe when you’ve improved more. I don’t want you taking risks you don’t have to. I was told the same thing by the person who taught me everything,” Mikhail explained, he knew he couldn’t just abandon him. “I can try to come back though. I help keep some others connected, but I’ll come back, I promise.”

Ian grabbed him tight into a hug, the promise barely keeping him together. Mikhail knew it was a dumb idea, but he couldn’t do it. He’d promised himself not to get involved with borrowers again after the last time, but he never expected to find a kid who had no one. Once Ian could take care of himself he’d tell him the truth and then deal with the consequences. For now he’d help him stay safe. Ian fell asleep holding Mikhail in a tight hug. He knew he shouldn’t stay like this, but it was nice to be with someone else. After a few hours he knew he had to leave. It was Monday so he had to be a human again and go to work.

He slipped out of Ian’s grasp, careful not to wake him. Quietly he grabbed the hook that they’d fashioned out of some threads and a paper clip, leaving Ian the one that he’d brought. He snuck through the walls until reaching an entrance that he’d leave open just enough to come in through again. Once out of the walls he focused on shifting back to his human size, the world slowly matching him again. He quickly made his way to the front door, keeping an eye out for anyone awake right now. He snuck in quietly, trying to avoid being loud enough to wake Ian up. He collapsed on his bed, turning his phone on with an alarm set for the class that started in a few hours.

[yonkimint]

So Show Me, I’ll Show You

Part 28.1

This part has written parts with pictures in between.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

TAGLIST (send me an ask or leave a reply if you want to be added!): @esteemedsalt @halesandy @historicalgigi @seaoffangirling @secretlycrazyhummingbird @kiwimash12 @aviwasabi21 @sehun096rainbow @darkskin-buttercup @rainfallingfromthesky @yoongiofmine @lucedelsole97 @pleasegivemearemedyyy @kim-jias-den @unadulteratedlyunique @thesweetest-peas​ @joyfullyobsessed​ @irishhbamb ​​​

When the door to your hospital room swings open, you groan in relief. Finally Jimin was here to jailbreak you. It was great having Lauren, Heeji, and Luna here but they are dutiful bulldogs and you can’t blame them. Your last visit to the hospital had left them pretty traumatized.

Your hopes fall when a man in scrubs steps into the room instead. You had seen him once or twice but you had never exchanged words. In fact, the only reason you remember him at all is because he is white and you thought that was odd, considering you were in a Korean hospital.

“Oh hi,” you say, uncomfortable, when he just stands at the foot of your bed. His head is bowed so you can’t study his face too closely but his presence puts you on edge. He doesn’t respond to your greeting so you push on, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “The nurses just did their rotations and I’m doing fine. Did you need to check something?”

He laughs. A low throaty laugh that has haunted all of your nightmares. Your hands fist around hospital sheets as a cold chill runs up your spine. Swallowing around the lump rising in your throat, you peer closer at him.Mark’s hair is black. This orderly’s is ash blonde. But everything else… you suck in a sharp breath.

“Hello, y/n, did you get my flowers?”

He lifts his head and all his sharp features suddenly come into focus. He has been here the whole time watching you try to recover from injuries that he perpetuated. He looks pleased. And his pleasure makes you want to claw his face off.

“Go to hell, asshole.” You try to sound menacing, to hiss these words like poison, but they only come out a weak, fearful wheeze. Mark clucks his tongue at you.

“Look at you, y/n, trying to be brave when you’re really nothing but a weakling. A cowardly little girl. You would be nothing without me and you know it. You don’t really think you’re going to fight me, do you?”

There’s a glimmer in his eye and it makes you so angry. But the part of you that has endured his abuse for years is still the stronger part and you feel your anger give way to hopelessness. Mark is right. You won’t fight him.

“Good girl. Now, we are going to go on a little field trip, okay?”

You shudder as he steps around the bed and traces the IV still in your arm. You had been waiting until the last second to remove it so the nurses wouldn’t suspect anything if they walked in but now you regret that choice. Mark has no intentions of being gentle with you.

He presses a palm against your mouth, smiling vindictively as the fingers of his other hand loop around the tubes that have been delivering your medicine and fluid for the last few days and yanks the whole thing loose. You whimper into his skin as blood splashes from your open vein.

“How are we supposed to go on a field trip when any camera is going to catch you dragging me out of this room?” you ask him, hoping fleetingly that he hasn’t thought of this. But he’s been here for who knows how long. 

“My little writer,” he coos, snatching your phone from your lap and slipping it into his scrubs pocket, “You really do try to think of everything that can happen, don’t you?”

You glare at him. You have taken abuse from him all these years and still, it’s the patronizing that sets you off every time. And he knows he’s pushed the right button too because he laughs and pats your cheek gently.

“Oh my sweet little y/n, the field trip is right here in the hospital. I’m going to roll you out of here in that wheelchair,” he says, pausing to point to the wheelchair that sits in the corner of your room, “and we’re going to go down the hall. And you’ll do exactly what I tell you to because you know that I have your phone which means I can either let you say goodbye to your friends or make them think that you never want to see them again. Your choice!”

This is so cliche, you think, hobbling out of bed when he gestures for you to get up, like something out of a stupid soap opera. Disguises himself as an orderly and kidnaps me right under everyone’s noses. God damnit. 

Your field trip brings you to a supply closet on the third floor of the hospital which, conveniently, is under renovation. You can’t help but think that Mark is following this cliched script just to piss off the writer in you.

Now that you’re out of sight of the cameras, he has tied your limbs to the chair so you can’t run away. A gag sits roughly in your mouth and cuts against the corners of your lips. Mark is circling you as if deciding where he should start.

Lauren told you that he threatened to do so much worse than put you in the hospital next time he found you and you let your eyes flutter shut in defeat. 

You choose not to think about that. Instead, you let your memories play like old movie reels on the backs of your eyelids. Heeji’s art galleries. Lauren’s photo shoots. And Luna’s ridiculous seances every full moon. 

You stifle a chuckle. No need to bring on Mark’s wrath any sooner than necessary.

And then, newer memories begin to play and a lump rises in your throat. These ones aren’t supposed to be tinged with melancholy. These are supposed to be the memories of starting over. The memories from after you are safe.

You swallow hard.

The flight had already taken a lot out of you. This was just the cherry on top of a totally stressful, life changing ice cream sundae. At least this coffee shop seemed safe and warm while you tried to figure out if you were going to be homeless or not. 

Seoyun, the barista, had been kind enough to give you the WiFi password so looking up your address shouldn’t be too difficult. Still, you lowered your head down on the table with a sigh of defeat. Seoul was so confusing. 

“Oh, I know that look,” a voice sounds above you. Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing, already distrustful of a friendly stranger in the heart of South Korea. He smiles at you and his perfect rows of white teeth are so familiar, you already feel your tense muscles uncoiling. He presses on, “it’s not your first day in Seoul, is it?”

You glance at your luggage and back at him, remembering Lauren’s texts to go find BTS. As if the butt of some cosmic joke, it seems that they have found you instead.

You roll your eyes at him, “what gave it away?”

He glances down at your luggage too and laughs. You study his face carefully so you see the exact moment he makes a decision that will alter the course of both your lives. 

His hands are full with two trays of coffee and he shoves them down on your table without asking. You raise an eyebrow at him, not really surprised by his boldness but somehow taken aback all the same, but he only flashes his brilliant smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. He sits down. 

“You look like you don’t trust yourself to breathe. Like you’re trapped in your own brain or something,” he comments. 

You lean forward, reminding yourself to calm the flare of annoyance rising in your chest before you speak. “Jimin,” you say evenly, “do you think you can just sit here with a complete stranger, flirt with her a little bit, and she’ll open up with her whole life story?”

“It’s always worked before,” he chirps back, batting his eyes, that same heart melting grin never wavering. But you see it there behind his gaze. No one has ever called him out on this before and you smile.

“I sincerely doubt that…” you say, trailing off as his hand darts out for the phone you’ve left on the table. You gasp, your reflexes too slow to catch him now, and he giggles swiping through as many un-password protected screens as he can.

“Well, I sincerely doubt that you know where you’re going since you’re sitting in a random coffee shop with all your luggage so, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ve decided to help you find your way,” he says, handing the phone back and gesturing for you to unlock it for him.

Your insides are screaming not to do it. You have to keep a low profile or starting over is going to fail but the earnest look in his eye has you wavering. With a sigh, you unlock the phone and you feel it deep in your gut, everything is over before it’s even begun.

It didn’t really matter what Mark was doing to torture you, just that he was and the pain was excruciating. You had heard a rumor once that after a certain point, the body would stop responding to pain but you were sure now that that was a lie. This was endless.

Your eyes start to roll back when Mark claps in front of your face again. You blink back into focus and your whole body is screaming for relief. He’s looking at you like you should say something to him but you can’t speak, the gag still firmly in your mouth, muffling all your screams.

“Can’t have you dozing off, my favorite little writer, you’ll miss the best part!”

You quirk an eyebrow, inviting him to give his little villain’s speech. He obviously wants to follow the soap opera script so you might as well let him follow it to its natural conclusion. He grins, tracing your jaw line with something icy cold. A knife?

No, you tell yourself, don’t think about that.

“You’re probably thinking how cliche this all must be. The hospital disguise. The hiding in plain sight. You’re probably even thinking that since we stayed in the hospital, it’s inevitable that I will get caught. Which is true. The question is if it will happen before or after I kill you,” he says, “And maybe the more important question is this: why did Mark do this to the thing that makes him all his money?”

The thing? You would spit on him if there weren’t a gag in your mouth.

He leans close, his eyes boring into yours. “And the answer is really quite simple. You disgust me. You think you’re so talented and so clever. Everyone adores you and bends over backwards to care for you and what do you really need protection from? Your big, bad manager and publisher?”

He’s going to keep ranting, you know it, and you don’t want the short time you have left to be spent listening to this tirade. They say it’s normal to disassociate under trauma and so you do, falling into your memories again.

Namjoon had warned you about Yoongi before you even stepped foot in the studio. It still wasn’t enough to stop the way your heart dropped down into your stomach when you caught a glimpse of him in the hallway. 

You had told him after the fact that you didn’t remember this moment but the truth of the matter was, it was impossible to erase this memory from your mind. With all the steel you could muster, you met his gaze. Dark, critical eyes stared back at you, soft pink lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line. 

You offered a gentle smile like it was an olive branch, your knees wobbling while you waited for him to roll his eyes or storm away. But his eyes only widened, those annoyed lips parting in a small ‘o’, color rushing up to dust his round cheeks. 

It made your knees knock together and you ducked your head. What was that? Forget it. If he was going to refuse to meet you, you weren’t going to waste feelings over it.

The next memory spills into recollection almost on top of this one. 

Would it be okay if I came and listened to what you’re working on? you texted Namjoon. 

Jungkook and Hobi were arguing about who got to be Luigi in the next race. You chuckled to yourself, amazed for the billionth time that you had somehow been invited to hang out with these boys again. You had already known they were incredible but actually interacting with them was overwhelming. They were as wonderful as they had always seemed from afar. 

Even, you thought, Yoongi. He had extended a truce but he was still frustrating to no end. What did he mean you could never be friends? He was obviously capable of being friendly and you knew the way he cared for and protected his group members. It shouldn’t sting so much that he didn’t want to be YOUR friend but what could you do?

“Y/n, I curated a meme just for you,” Tae whispers from his place beside you on the couch and you startle when he pushes his phone into your hands. 

“What the hell, Tae?” you burst out laughing, trying to make sense of the chaotic picture before you. He starts laughing too, satisfied by your reaction and takes his phone back. You punch his arm lightly and mutter, “you’re so weird.”

Let me ask Yoongi, your phone chimes. Your stomach surges with some feeling you don’t understand. You remind yourself that you’re just going to hang out with Joon. This has nothing to do with Yoongi and yet…

How is he supposed to become your friend if you let him keep avoiding you?

He says you can’t talk but you can come in.

You’re out of your seat before you have time to think about it more. The boys look up at you in surprise and you announce that you’re gonna hang out with Namjoon a bit before you challenge them to Mario Kart. The look of fear in Jungkook’s eyes sends you into another fit of laughter and you pat his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Kookie, winning isn’t everything!”

“Yes it is!” he groans as you walk away.

In the studio, your stomach starts to dance again. Yoongi doesn’t look up from the scratch paper he’s scribbling on but you can see the way his fingers tighten around his pen. He is as aware of your presence as you are of his. When Namjoon points to the spot on the couch beside him, it takes all your concentration not to trip over your own feet. 

You scold yourself for this silly behavior. There are more adoring members of this kpop group to be mooning over. Mooning over? You are NOT mooning over Yoongi. Who said that? Not you.

Anyway, whatever it is you’re feeling, Yoongi has done nothing to deserve it. So why do your eyes keep landing on him as you survey the room?

“I don’t like that lyric there,” Namjoon says, “maybe we should move it down into the second verse.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but it’s softened by the small smile playing at his lips. He and Namjoon must have been going back and forth over these lines for quite some time. You watch as he scribbles out the words and moves them lower down the page. 

His eyes meet yours and the hairs rise on the back of your arms. He doesn’t look upset that you’re there and that’s almost more unsettling than him insulting you. You press your lips together and search for anywhere in the room to look but him. 

The phone in your lap will have to provide distraction enough. You pick it up and fiddle around between home screens but there’s nothing as interesting there as what’s happening before you so you listen in on the lyrics they’re crafting while you pretend to text the girls. 

Of course, when you find out the song is for E.L. Penn, you spiral. You knew your worlds were going to collide if you stuck around long enough. It’s never been a secret to you that Namjoon was a fan of her work — your work — or that they would have worked with her on the movie if she hadn’t gone on hiatus. 

But you are just an English teacher in Seoul and not the recipient of this song that is making your heart hurt. You can’t believe Mark would hack into your Twitter account just to set this in motion without you. He’s trying to push your buttons and it’s working. 

So you do the only thing you can. You call Lauren. 

When you return to the studio, Namjoon is gone. You knew he would be since he passed you in the hall while you were still on the phone. Yoongi looks up at you in surprise but you only offer a curt nod before beelining for your spot on the couch.

The tears spill out before you can help it and your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi. You feel stupid as you read his stupid question through blurred vision. You respond sardonically and toss your phone onto the couch. 

When he tells you you’re killing the vibe, you almost launch to your feet and run out of the room but Yoongi stops you. You stare at him, mouth gaping open like a fish. 

“You want to what?” you ask, wondering if he’ll scold you for talking out loud to him. 

He reaches for his guitar instead, a sleek, black stained acoustic that you’ve seen in several lives from before you actually knew him. He strums the chords lightly, the sweet sounds discordant in the small space. You blink at him. 

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he says vaguely, “I’m just curious what you think.”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. He frowns at you, his lips puckering and little dimples appearing in the corners of his cheeks. 

“Just be quiet and listen, okay?” he asks it like a question but you know he’s giving a command.

You smile at him a little too sweetly and then settle back into the couch, pulling your legs up to your chest, so you can rest your chin on your knees as he starts to strum. He rolls his eyes at you but there’s a smile in them that you’ve never seen directed at you before. 

Your stomach makes that weird lurch again and you finally resign yourself to what you are feeling. Butterflies. Min Yoongi is giving you butterflies.

[skullrock]

the (fake) date

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: In an attempt to avoid Keith’s advances, you tell him you’re going out with Steve. Steve makes that a reality.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: none!!

a/n: first oneshot in months!!! wooo!!! this includes Steve being scared of haunted houses xox

===

Every week, you had to feed Keith another lie as to why you couldn’t go on a date with him.

You could have simply told him you weren’t interested, but he was your boss, and you were worried that letting him down harshly would have consequences. It wasn’t like there were a plethora of jobs in Hawkins once the mall burned down; Family Video was all you had. Family Video and your creepy, weird boss that always carried a bag of Cheetos with him.

You’d say just about anything to get him off your back - that you were busy with school, or you had plans with family, or you were sick. Anything to get him to walk away. You even spent a week trying to make yourself look sick - sunken and dark undereyes, hardly combed hair. It was so convincing that Steve walked up to you and put his hand against your forehead to feel for a fever.

“Not sick,” you told him.

“You look like hell,” he said, brows furrowed.

“That’s very sweet,” you said, and continued to the back room to sort tapes.

But this week, you were out of ideas. You didn’t know what to tell him.

“Friday, you and me?” Keith asked, hand sunken into a bag of Cheetos. “We can go to a haunted house.”

“Oh, I can’t,” you say weakly.

“What’s got you so damn busy this week?”

You searched your brain for any kind of excuse before blurting out, “I’m going to one with Steve.”

The Cheeto bag fell from Keith’s hand.

As if on cue, Steve comes out from the back room and promptly trips on his own feet, slamming into the counter. He smiles dorkily at you before moving to the other side of the counter to help a customer.

“You’re going out with Harrington?” Keith was practically seething.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, turning to watch Steve. “I am.”

Keith scoffs and walks away, dejected and pissed that Harrington won again, mumbling something about how he shouldn’t have hired him.

You lean against the counter, letting out a breath you were holding. Close call.

You thought that was the end of it - but Keith, of course, brings this up again, and in front of Steve this time.

“How long have you been seeing each other?”

“Couple weeks,” you say, while Steve stands on the other side of Keith, confused.

“Wh-“ Steve starts, but you look at him with pleading eyes, and it clicks with him.

“Yeah,” he says, recovering. Steve steps closer to you and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you into him. You pray that you’re not blushing too noticeably. “Yeah, since September 28th.”

Keith scoffs. “No PDA in the store, Harrington.”

Steve shrugs and lets you go. “Sorry, Keith. Can’t keep my hands off of them.”

Keith points a dust-covered finger at Steve. “Hands to yourself.” He leans back just slightly. “We have a form you need to fill out if you’re dating. Saves the company’s ass if something goes wrong.” He produces the papers from his back pocket and slams them onto the counter. “Fill ‘em out. I want them by your next shift.” He shoots Steve another hard glare before stalking off, out the front door.

Silence.

You grab the papers and fold them, shoving them into your own back pocket and attempting to walk away.

“Wait,” Steve says, gently taking your arm. “We gonna talk about this?”

You freeze.

Steve had been your crush since forever. You were always in love with him - when he was a dorky 7th grader, when he was an asshole junior, and now as a dorky young man. But you’d sunken into a beautiful friendship with him that you absolutely weren’t willing to throw away over dumb feelings.

“You know Keith.” You try to sound nonchalant. “He keeps asking me out on dates.”

A sudden jealousy hits Steve right in the gut, but he swallows it down.

“And he wouldn’t leave me alone. So I … I told him that we were seeing each other.”

Steve blinks.

Steve coincidentally has also been into you. Maybe not as long, but just as deep. And he’d be damned if he ever tried telling you that. So if he has to pretend to date you to get close to the real thing, he’ll do it.

“Oh, God, please don’t be mad -“ you begin, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not mad,” he says. “No. No. I’m not mad. We should have done this sooner.”

You blink.

“Because - so that - he would have left you alone sooner,” he clarifies, shifting, putting his hands in his back pockets. “You know.”

“You don’t have to -“

“I want to,” he says, then shakes his head a bit. “I mean - not like, I want to be your boyfriend - or anything weird -“

“I get it,” you say, a bit crushed but happy that he’s not pissed and is willing to go along with you. “I told him we were going to a haunted house this Friday.”

“Well, maybe we should,” Steve suggests. “You know - so we seem like a real couple.”

You blush deeply and look away, busying yourself with a random piece of paper on the counter. “Yeah, that would be fun. Or - the house would be fun -“

“I get it,” he says. He leans his back against the counter and watches your fingers play with the paper, smiling softly as he does. “Should I pick you up at seven?”

“Sounds good,” you say, trying to sound casual, but your heart was about to hammer out of your chest.

So was Steve’s.

===

As it would turn out, Steve hates haunted houses.

Every sound makes him shake, and his teeth chatter loudly as you move through the rooms. Steve tries to laugh off his fright, but he gets more worked up as it goes on. After all he’s been through, something like this shouldn’t make him so scared - but it sends him into a near panic attack.

And he feels so stupid, because you’re taking the frights like a champ, laughing at the masks and costumes and guiding Steve along. You willingly hold his hand and help him through the rooms, never once making fun of him for being scared. Steve thinks he probably looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, and it makes him want to drop to the floor and die.

“This is bullshit,” he mumbles, holding onto you for dear life as actors walk around you.

“What’s bullshit?” you ask, laughing and blushing, holding his hand tightly. “They aren’t real, Steve.”

Steve runs a sweaty palm through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I know -“

A person in a mask jumps out randomly and Steve shouts, “Jesus!”

It’s very endearing in an odd way.

“You hate this,” you declare over the loud and obnoxious sound effects. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Thank God,” Steve says hoarsely, and allows you to guide him to the exit.

Outside, Steve takes in large gulps of hair, keeping watch for any monsters - or humans. You rub his back soothingly, and he wipes his palms on his jeans.

“Gross,” he groans. “I didn’t know - ugh, you had to hold these -“

“I don’t care,” you say, and that settles it.

“This might sound crazy,” he says as you both head for his car, “but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”

“You haven’t?” You’re shocked. “And how many dates have you been on? A thousand?”

Steve glares at you in his periphery. “No. Doesn’t matter. Point is, I’ve never been to a haunted house before.”

“Glad I was there for your first time,” you say, and Steve’s happy you were there, too.

When you approach his car, you realize you’re both still holding hands, and you pull your hand away quickly. Steve frowns.

“Sorry,” you say.

“For what?”

“Holding your hand for so long.”

“Didn’t bother me.”

You pause, studying his face. He looks warm, a slight smile on the edge of his lips, shoulders relaxed, almost leaning towards you but not quite.

You continue looking at each other for a few moments, trying to decipher each other. Finally, Steve whispers, “I’m still scared, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, and holds his hand out to you. “I think you should hold it again.”

You blush and smile. “Let’s get in the car.”

Steve practically sprints to his side, then runs back to get your door for you. He tucks you inside, then runs back to his side. In his head, he gives himself a pep talk, tries to remember how to be flirty and smooth. But Steve Harrington doesn’t know how to be suave, not anymore, and maybe that’s not really a bad thing. Steve quickly puts his seatbelt on and then reaches over the center console, taking your hand in his.

“It’s still sweaty,” you say, quietly, a lame attempt at a joke.

“That didn’t bother you before,” Steve says, smiling slightly.

The look he’s giving you is so sweet and pure that you almost want to run out of the car. Or lean forward and kiss him. Or maybe both.

And even though you’re both holding hands and very obviously pining, neither of you actually know what this means. Steve has hope in his aching chest that maybe this is almost a real date under the premise of being a fake one. You have hope that it is, too. But neither of you know how to breach the topic, and after some lingering looks, Steve starts to drive. His right hand is still laced in your left, tightly, almost afraid that you’d let him go.

“Where to?” he asks. “It’s only nine.”

You desperately try to think of something to do, anything to keep him with you for a little while longer. “I- horror movies?”

Steve can’t help the laugh that bubbles from his chest. “I don’t do super well with those, either.”

“King Steve!” you say, faking a scandalized tone. “You telling me you hate horror flicks?”

“Can’t stand ‘em,” he says, absentmindedly squeezing your hand. “They make me jump.”

“How high?”

A childish giggle comes from him. “At least five feet.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“Too bad,” he smiles, glancing over to you. Then he gasps. “Oh, I know a place!”

===

As it would turn out, the quarry is a perfect place for a chilly October night.

It’s scary, but not too scary. It’s more so serene and beautiful, and the moon casts a silver glow onto the water and trees. You and Steve lean against the front of his car, hands to yourself, as you watch the surroundings.

“You scared?” he asks suddenly.

You laugh. “No. Are you?”

“No.” A pause. “You just - you seem like you’re shaking.”

“I’m just cold.” You wrap your arms around yourself for some warmth. “I don’t know why I thought a thin sweater -”

Steve scoots beside you and takes his jacket off - the infamous Members Only one, which he insists to Robin is made with the very threads of good luck - and he wraps it around your shoulders. You slink into yourself, smiling coyly at him and he secures it onto your frame.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Steve nods and smiles down at you. The moon hits the left side of his face and illuminates his features, and you hold yourself back from tucking a stray hair behind his ear.

“What about you?” you ask. “Aren’t you cold now?”

“A little,” he admits. “I’ll be okay.”

You don’t believe him. You wrap your arm around him and pull him in closely, and his hair flops over his forehead as he leans into your side. His arm snakes around your waist and you feel frozen in time, like nothing could ever be this perfect, like you never want it to end.

“What are we doing?” you whisper after a moment.

Steve smiles. “If you ask me, I think we’re on a date.”

You blush against Steve’s shoulder and he can feel the heat through his shirt.

“Yeah?” you ask. “A fake one or a real one?”

Steve swallows hard, contemplating his answer. “Seems… seems like a real one to me.”

You look up at him at the same time he looks down at you and your noses almost brush together. Steve’s eyes trail down to your lips and he leans forward a microscopic amount, his arm still tight around your waist. You look away before he can close the gap, and his shoulders slump just slightly.

“I think it seems like a real one, too,” you say, voice cracking from nerves.

There’s a moment of silence before Steve whispers, “Hey.”

You look at him and there’s no time to contemplate.

Steve’s lips are warm and soft, tasting vaguely like cherry chapstick and Coca-Cola. They move against yours slowly, and although the kiss feels like a minute, it only lasts a fleeting moment before he pulls back, gauging your reaction.

“Is that… cherry chapstick?” It’s all you can think to say.

“Cherry Coke,” he corrects. “L-Lipsmacker.”

A slow smile breaks out over your face. “I have the same one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You smile wider. “Maybe you should taste it on me sometime.”

Steve melts into you, pulling you closer to him. “I think you taste just fine without it.”

Your lips meet again and time stands still once more. Steve’s warm hand cups your face as he pulls you in, and your thumb traces his cheekbone. You’d never felt so alive and lucky as the cold October air picks your hair up and blows it around you.

Steve leans his forehead against yours as he breaks the kiss again. You remain there for a while, thanking the universe for your luck.

Steve thanks his jacket, and, oddly, Keith.

“Hope you kept those papers,” Steve mumbles.

You laugh. “I did.”

“Good,” he smiles, his breath tickling your nose. “Because I think we’ll need to sign them.”

===

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[bts-hyperfixation]

Sweethearts

Your high school graduation was just like the ones you’d seen in the movies. After excepting your diplomas in front of your families, you and your friends headed of to a random field for a bonfire and camping. It was a night you never wanted to forget. It was filled with old stories and laughter, nostalgic memories and wishes for the future. Most importantly it was spent with the boy you thought would be your one and only. Jungkook was supposed to be your forever. That was the night you lost your virginity to him.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, both of you fumbling to figure things out through messy kisses and rough grasps, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. You spent that night wrapped in each-other’s arms, dreaming of what the future could hold. It had all seemed so perfect, everything set out in front of you. Attending the same university, finding jobs in the same city and eventually marriage. It was all mapped out waiting for you… until it wasn’t.

Like most high school romances, it all fell apart. Not immediately, and not all at once. It started with little things: your workload got too heavy, his friends teased him, you both lashed out in frustration. By the end of the first semester, it became too much and after a long tear-filled goodbye you let each other go.

That was almost a year ago now. You had managed to avoid seeing him for the most part and were moving on well. Obviously, some of the rumours made their way to you:

“Did you hear Jeon slept with almost all of the drama girls before they found out about each other?”

“I heard he was so good none of them cared.”

“I mean his numbers that high at this point it makes you wonder doesn’t it….”

“Yeah, he must be a GOD in bed.”

You usually just shook your head at the giggling girls and moved on. It still hurt to think about him sometimes, but you breathed through the pain and got on with life.

One afternoon you are studying in a coffee shop on campus, not long before winter break. The essay you were working on was kicking your ass and you had decided a change in scenery would do you some good. Just as you take a sip of your drink, you realise it was a fatal mistake. Your eyes find each other instantly when he walks through the door with his buddies. You gulp down your drink and rush to return his grin with a somewhat confident look of your own. His hair is longer now, pulled back into a bun at the back but his bangs hang loose around his face, perfectly framing his deep eyes. He is more heartbreakingly beautiful now than he has ever been, It isn’t long until the moment you share is broken by a blonde throwing herself into his arms. She giggles and slaps at his biceps, chastising him about something you can’t hear. It feels like someone’s punched you in the stomach. Everything is too warm as you watch the way he basks in her attention, friends hollering in support of whatever’s happening. You don’t bother looking back at him as you pack your things away. That’s how you miss the way his smile faulters as he watches you leave.

Once home you abandon all plans of finishing your essay, instead reaching under your bed to pull out a dusty shoebox you hadn’t thought about since you’d put it there. You empty it’s contents on to the sheets. You stare at the remnants of your relationship scattered around you. Movie stubs, polaroids, and old gifts. You don’t realise you are crying until a droplet hits an image in front of you, smearing the handwritten caption on the bottom. You lift the picture to study it. Your past-self stares back, sat in his lap and folded in his loving embrace. His nose is scrunched, it’s the part of his smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. The words at the bottom once read “Me and you forever baby” in his handwriting. Thanks to your tears, it now said “you forever baby.” In a sick way it made you laugh, now more accurate. You pick up the small pink bear he had once won for you out of habit, still finding comfort in its worn fur. Not pausing to tidy the items away again you curl into yourself and fall asleep.

It must be a few hours later when your awoken by someone banging at your door. You glance at the mess around you and try to make sense of what’s going on. Your alarm clock on the bedside table reads 00:00. That’s when you hear his voice through the wood.

“Y/N… let me in… please.” His words are a little slurred and he sounds upset, but there’s no mistaking the owner. You open the door and take in his puffy cheeks, evidence that he had been crying too. For a little while the two of you stare at each other, finally seeing the pain that had haunted you both for so long. It takes him shivering for you to realise you hadn’t let him in. you shuffle sideways, and he enters your apartment. You close the door and turn to face him, finding him leafing through the photos strewn across your bed he smiles fondly at the memories, lifting the same image you had been staring at a few hours prior.

“Do you remember this?” he questions, not wanting to get to the point of his surprise visit.

“Graduation.” You croak, voice still weak from crying. He collects the items and places them back into the box for you before sitting on the edge of your bed. You move to join him, careful to sit far away enough to enforce boundaries.

“Do you still love me?” the question catches you off guard, you’d spent months convincing yourself he had moved on. No one fucks half the campus without moving on from their past.

“What are you doing Kookie?” he cringes at the old nickname as you scold him. “Why are you doing this to me?” fresh tears form in your eye at this new form of torture. He reaches a hand to comfort you like he used to and then thinks better of it, dropping the limb back into his lap.

“I don’t know Y/N, all I do know is I can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they are you.” His eyes search yours for a response, but you are too shell shocked to react. “It hurts too much still. Every time I try to fill the void you left, I fail and end up hurting more than ever.”

“I… It ...It doesn’t work Jungkook, we tried, it wasn’t meant to be, it was too hard.” You try to reason with him despite every bone in your body demanding you do the opposite.

“Screw that! We should’ve tried harder. I will do anything to prove to you that we can still work… please just let me try.” This time when he reaches for you, he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into him and kissing you passionately. You melt into his embrace, seduced by his words. Desperately clinging to every part of him you could reach. Trying to reclaim what you had lost. He falls backwards onto the sheets and you follow, straddling him, trapping him underneath you as you re-discover one another. His hands travel lower playing with the hem of your shirt before tugging it upward. You toss the fabric away from you and return to his lips, craving his taste. He takes you by surprise when he flips you. He had never been weak, but clearly his time in the gym was not going to waist. He leaves hot open-mouthed kisses from you chin to your cleavage paying close attention to the parts he remembers as the most sensitive.

You shiver under his touch as he pulls the lace cup of your bralette out of his way, nipping at the skin around your nipple. He plays with the bud for a while his hand absentmindedly playing with your other breast. Satisfied with his teasing he forges on, tugging the waist band of your pants with him. You lift your hips to help him remove the unwanted fabric and he makes quick work of it, soon returning to your now exposed core. He drags a finger up your slit before taking the wet finger into his mouth. Watching him savour the taste drove you insane. He let out a moan at the familiar flavour making you whine in response.

“I’m going to make you feel so good baby girl. So good that everything’s okay again.” You nod feverishly, wanting nothing more than to believe his words. He licks along your entrance collecting your juices on his tongue before sucking your clit into his mouth. You tried not to think about how he had gotten so good at what he was doing and focused on the pleasure. Soon he added two fingers to your dripping vagina, finding your most sensitive areas with ease. Whimpers tumble freely from your lips as you feel the coil in your stomach begin to stretch. The final straw comes when he ads the third finger, the stretch proving too much for you as he scissors the digits inside of you. You cum harder than you think you’ve ever cum before. He resurfaces once you’ve ridden out your high; his chin dripping with you. You don’t think he has ever looked better.

You grab at the top knot at the back of his head pulling the band loose and using the new length of his hair to your advantage. His face his back against yours in seconds. You can taste yourself on his lips. You tug at his long locks as he grinds himself against your leg, reminding you he is fully clothed. Suddenly displeased with his state of attire, your hands moved to undo the fly on his jeans. You slide one hand into his boxers, grasping at his length and pumping a little, trailing your fingertips along the underside. The bunny smile you love so much appears on his face as he pulls away from you, shedding his own clothes. You can’t help but let your eyes wander down his newly chiselled physique. The v at the bottom of his torso now much more prominent, a clear arrow to where you wanted to be most right now.

You make a grabby motion, and he chuckles, lowering himself back onto you. You try to gain the upper hand, attempting to flip the two of you back over so you could ride him freely. Unfortunately, he is prepared and stays firm, keeping you trapped under his weight. You pout at the inability to play.

“I want to make you feel good too.” He kisses your nose; it’d come off as patronising if it had been anyone one else.

“You can do that another time, right now I need to make you feel the way you’ve always deserved.” He punctuates his words by thrusting into you. He leans on one arm, using the free hand to rub at your clit as he sets a leisurely pace between your hips. You arch your back from the oversensitivity of your nerves, still recovering from the last mind-blowing orgasm. This only allows him better access to the most sensitive parts inside of you. The steady rhythm and assault on your clit have your second high appearing quickly. Unable to contain yourself you grasp onto his back leaving small half-moon indentations where your nails dig into his skin. The moan you let out is unearthly, making him moan in response. His grunts and the hitting of skin echo through the room as he speeds up in search of his own end.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow you to orgasm. Halting deep inside you, he releases and collapses on top of you. You let out a loud grunt at the weight and he laughs before rolling to the side and pulling you into his chest.

Masterlist

More from these prompts - closed

Holiday prompts - open

[neoheros]

how would haikyuu boys handle keeping a secret relationship feat. kuroo tetsuro

when you first told kuroo that you wanted to keep your relationship under wraps, he was pretty pensive about it because he straight up thought that you were embarrassed to be seen with him

it saddened him immensely that you could feel that way but that all quickly vanished when you reassured him that you just didn't like the attention

he was the captain of the volleyball team and most probably the prettiest man on campus— he had a spotlight that hung over his head and you really weren't up to be dragged into that

why he chose to date you in the first place is BEYOND you when he's the most capable man at school who had admirers falling for him left and right

his first impression of you wasn't even that good to begin with

you were just another teenager at your local 7/11 eating ramen noodle cups at 2 in the morning

then suddenly this tall living gatorade ad walked in with tired eyes and messy hair asking directions for the instant coffee aisle

you recognized him immediately and felt bad at how drowsy he looked, it’s obvious that he must’ve not been used to staying up this late

he sat down on the table across from you with a cup of hot coffee and he whipped out his phone to read something

being the kind, generous and humble person that you are, you took another ramen noodle cup from the counter and walked over to his seat

you: i’m a complete stranger but you’re on the brink of falling apart so i offer this cup of instant ramen to rejuvenate your lifeline

kuroo, falling in love: oh—oh thank you

that was how he met you— the stranger who he barely recognized from class that was shady yet kind enough to give him cup noodles

safe to say you 100% shot through his heart

maybe it was the stain on your shirt or the way you mocked his pajamas but damn you really got to him

he started noticing you around the halls more often and when he’s spacing out in between lessons he’d always catch his gaze falling onto you

one time you caught him eyeing you from his seat and you had the smuggest grin when you called him out on it

kuroo, staring:

you: stare at me some more!! ❤️🌸✨ i will be filing a restraining order 😩🥰

basically he had a crush on you and he wasn’t really discrete about it ??

when it was cold and he’d see you in school without a jacket he’d call you over to where he was and you’re embarrassed because everyone’s just staring at you ???

he makes you wear his jacket for the rest of the day and he’s not gonna let you question it

if it’s raining and you didn’t bring an umbrella you bet your ass that he’s not gonna let you walk home all by yourself

kuroo, pulling up next to you: get in loser

you, surprised to see him: we’re going shopping?

when kuroo heard you say that he just !!!!!! BRO it’s like you were a dream to him

he’s genuinely so into you and he’s trying so hard to be cool but also he doesn’t really wanna do that either ???

he’d rather be geeking out with you about the most random tiktok dances than put up a facade where he’s not crying to you at 2 am because kenma called him a simp

you, waking up in the middle of the night to kuroo’s 2 missed calls and 13 unread messages: bro what the fuck

kuroo: i will never learn how to throw it back 💔

you eventually got him to confess to you one day when you sent him a tiktok of a cute couple doing domestic things and he instantly replied with, “that could be us but you’re treating me like a SIMP”

he met up with you the same afternoon and properly told you about his feelings and he planned that even if you did reject him, he’d take it lightly since he respected you a lot too

but when you told him that you liked him back he just !!!!!!!

he’s all 🥺👉👈

he couldn’t believe that you reciprocated his feelings while you couldn’t grasp why he’d like you of all people when you openly admit to being mean to him

kuroo: so you have been bullying me all this time 😔

you, proud: one of my finest works tbh

the first few weeks of dating proved to be the hardest since you both were new to this and it wasn’t really easy to keep it subtle

the prolonged stares and coming up with different reasons to visit the volleyball club every day became apparent and it made you nervous that people started to catch on

one time you accidentally wore one of kuroo’s sweatshirts to school and yaku was all up in your face about it, you had to tell him that he only leant it to you because it was really cold in the room and you had sensitive skin

kuroo: you need to stop wearing my sweatshirts because people will notice

you: they won’t if they can’t see

kuroo, unnerved: we are not blinding every student in campus

it’s an entire frenzy because you both want to walk home together and go on public places holding hands but you can’t since you’re not ready to be seen with him yet

one time when kuroo had you over at his house to do some ~ studying ~ he deliberately forgot that kenma was supposed to hang out with him that afternoon and when he arrived knocking at his bedroom door, it was a FIASCOOO

kenma: did your closet door just move

kuroo, sweating while he kicks your blouse under his bed: oh yea it’s haunted

he’s patient though, he’s willing to wait until it’s cool with you to tell his team that you two are together

kenma: they’re very bad at hiding this

yaku: they are but it’s cute that they try