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Mon Chéri 1 | KTH | Teaser

Teaser! To be posted somewhere before the 12th of February, 23:59pm KST.

Once you were lovers in Paris, up to no good. But one small mishap caused everything you two had to shatter. There was no goodbye, no last je t'aime — just an empty bed. Now, you are given the opportunity to confront the man you once lovingly called mon chéri. Can you forget and forgive love, and take back what was taken from you?

This is part of the Luv Library Valentine’s project from Ficswithluv. ›› AU: Art frauds / Criminals  ›› Genre: Angst / Smut ›› Rating: 18+ (sexual content and violence) ›› Pairing: KTH x Reader, minor JJK x Reader & KTH x PJM ›› Word Count: 17k (2 parts, +/- 30k total) ›› Warnings Include: Sexual content, violent content, criminal activities, romantic angst. Mentions of criminal activities and romantic angst in this teaser. 

L’art est plus que ce qui est visible.

Art is more than what meets the eye. If you don’t get the same sensation the second time, it can be the consequence of only two things. An internal, personal change. Or a change in the painting. As subtle as a change in strokes or hues. A slight tilt leftwards — a change in emotions.

Your eyes glide across the set of paintings of Dutch tulips. The fields filled with colours, the spread of the paint — not unlike Van Gogh, but far too subtle for him. This set, painted years before Monet’s famous waterlily series, is more vibrant. Yet there’s something too bold about the one to the far left.

You take a shaky breath, swallowing thickly. The texture of the brush, the vibrancy and ambiance. It brings forward a sickly feeling of familiarity. For a moment you think your mind is playing tricks on you. That it wants to see him in this painting. But you can’t deny your heart’s ache.

This is him. His uncanny ability to mimic impressionism to the stroke. Precision to match imperfections. A mirror of another’s emotions that’s slightly clouded by his own.

Your chest constricts, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. There’s a quiet night in Paris, a warm and gentle embrace. His lips caressing your skin, paint streaks on your body from where his fingers had been stained. Silken sheets and words of love. Words of love that had been erased by a single mishap. A forgery fell through and you’d never seen him again. No last goodbye, no last je t’aime — nothing but an empty apartment and a broken heart.

Jin calls your name and you startle. “Are you alright?”

“Jin, this painting,” you whisper, no faith in your own voice. The memory of him burns in you, scraping your insides until you’re shaking. “It’s Vante’s.”

Special thanks to: @softlyjiminie @dee-ehn @justbtses @yoongs-jeontae @franklytae @mygsii @joonsrack @honey-piggy @sunshineangelhobi @jiminsfault​ @jungtaeyoongles​ @thinksshesawolf​ @moccahobi​ (if I forgot someone I truly apologise)

Comment TAG if you want to be tagged! 25 spots open!

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those cashiers that let you buy things when you’re missing a few cents deserve to live forever

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modern horror story: a single 200 chapter fic on ao3 summarized as a “collection of drabbles.” it is tagged for 200 different fandoms and every single character who so much as breathes in any of the chapters. it takes you an hour to scroll past. it is always at the top of your search results because it updates three times a week.

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Strike Three

Description: When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.

Genre: Smut (18+)

Word Count: 24.4k

Warnings: S/M themes, very!bratty MC, dubious consent, rough sex (spanking and slapping included), evil amounts of edging, toy use, breathplay, cumplay, oral sex, handjobs, degradation, slight dacryphilia, zero aftercare.  

A/N: I’m back from hiatus! Well, ish. I’m still going to be incredibly busy over the course of January, but hey! At least I got this done and posted, right?? :’) I hope y’all enjoy the newest outpouring of filth that my mind has conjured.

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All I Want for Christmas (ft. Yoongi)

→ singledad, CEO!yoongi x secretary!reader → 13k words

A/N: I wish all of you the best of holidays. I love you all.  

“Y/N, could ask you to do me a favor?” 

You look up from your desk, eyes rounding because Mr. Min had never asked you to do anything before. It was your job, for Christ’s sake, to do whatever he needed you to do. 

“Yes, sir. Of course.” You stand and walk over to his desk, where he sits slumped and with his tie pulled down and his sleeve pushed up on his arms. You’d never seen the handsome CEO so frazzled and tired before. Maybe it was the effects of the divorce taking place. 

“I–” he pauses, seeming to mull over whether or not he really wanted to ask you the specific favor. “–I have gotten the opportunity to see my daughter again.” He sighs, rubbing his temples. “For the weekend before Christmas, before her mother will pick her up again. But I…” 

He pauses and you wait, silently wringing your fingers. 

“…I have absolutely no idea what to do with her, and I need your help.” 

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..Is that seat taken

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R.I.P. STAN LEE. Art by Butcher Billy

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RIP #StanLee - another LEGEND gone … :(

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R.I.P. Stan…thank you for everything, and thank you for Spider-Man, he got me through high school, and he would always help me through my depression.

EXCELSIOR!!!

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i am stupid for free. no one pays me to be this stupid and i think that’s very brave

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attention everyone it’s time to celebrate namgi’s 8 year anniversary 🎉

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I finally have some free time! I’ll be able to read again sjfjejd

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eveything ms. obi writes automatically goes to my faves list. quality drable and quality author. 

idk man i wrote this in an hour so editing is like not a Thing but im so deep in my joonie feelings i lvoe him plsss ):

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“And a toast to the happy couple,” Jin says brightly, his cheeks flushed from one too many glasses of champagne. Your eyes are watering—they have been since the beginning of the dinner but especially so now while the oldest in your group of friends begins what is no doubt, a long heartfelt speech….

Written for the man you’ve been in love with since the twelfth grade and his soon to be wife.

You throw back another shot before making your way to the back of the ballroom, nearly tripping several times on those little white covers they put on the chairs to make them look fancy. They were tacky by the way. Probably the only ugly thing at this stupid wedding other than the green eyed monster that threatened to come out several times during the rehearsal and object. And the funny thing is you have no one to blame but yourself. It was your fault you were unhappy, and nearly shit faced stumbling towards the lobby. It was your fault that Park Jimin was up there soon to be married to someone who wasn’t you and it was your fault for never saying something sooner.

He was your best friend and there wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t regret rejecting his confession. You were too late, as you were with most things. But this time it was important - this time it was a game of hearts and you’d lost. Because you were terrified, jaded by some stupid high school boyfriend who’s name you couldn’t remember now. You had lost and showing up to this wedding was probably the second biggest mistake of your life. The first—

“God, we’re pathetic.” You sigh, taking a seat next to the guy who’d become your closest companion since visiting Jimin became few and far between. Seeing him with Seulgi was nauseating. Mostly because she was everything you weren’t—so like, nice. He’s commented on the rift more than once, he said he felt like you were pulling away from him and he was right. Because you weren’t selfless, you couldn’t say you wished for his happiness even if it didn’t include you. You didn’t want him to be happy without you. You didn’t want him to stop loving you. You didn’t want him to—

“Leave. I look like an even bigger loser when you sit next to me.” Namjoon scowls, shoving your drink further down the bar.

“I didn’t think that was possible.” You retort, downing your drink and reaching for his.

“What did you finish making rounds with all the other groomsmen?” He cocks a brow at you and you shrug.

“There were only eight and it’s a Friday—I find my recovery time has gotten a lot better with practice.” You smile fakely. “Besides, I hear you’re President of the lonely hearts club, sitting out here all sulky and badboy-esque. Who wears a leather jacket to a rehearsal dinner by the way?”

Namjoon snorts, not even looking at you as he flags the bartender down for another beer. “I don’t know but I imagine he’s still leagues above the person who wears all black like she’s in mourning.”

“This is my slutty dress for your information, it’s not my fault it also doubles as a funeral dress. I’m being economically responsible.” You sniff.

You and Namjoon had a peculiar relationship. You couldn’t say you were friends…. exactly. But you were forced together by the two assholes in your life and had somewhere along the way bonded over the pitifully embarrassing fact that you were both stupidly in love with your best friends who were now engaged and perfect and probably going to have perfect 2.5 children (whatever the hell that means) and a perfect picket fence with a perfect fucking dog with one leg whos blind and deaf and can only bark on the weekends because they adopt from animal shelters and whatever the fuck else it is that nice people do. Seulgi and Jimin were perfect in the worse sense of the word. The type of people that made you feel real down on yourself the more time you spent with them and Namjoon, while he was an amazing d bag, got that. And you had an almost silent acknowledgment of each other’s pain. Two shitty people bonding over a shitty experience.

One thing you will admit about Namjoon is that the guy was ridiculously hot - so hot that if you weren’t in love with Park Jimin and his perfect ass there was a highly likely chance you’d end up in some We Found Love Rihanna type relationship with him. Probably even get his name tattooed on your ass, he was that kind of guy. And yet - 

“Have you ever thought ab-”

“No.” He says automatically and you glare at his side profile. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” You scoff, and for the first time all night he turns to look at you. The look he gives you is shameless, clearly unbothered by the fact that was openly ogling you like you were a piece of meat. Well, that made two of you because jokes on him, you like being ogled like a piece of meat it does wonders for your ego. You cock a brow at him, “Do I pass the test?” 

“You failed with flying colors.” He explains. 

“Oh come on, you’ve seriously never thought about fingering me under the table at all those boring ass dinner parties those two assholes forced us to?” You roll your eyes at him. 

“On the contrary, I’ve thought about it… a lot.” He gives you another once over, “Especially when you wear those dresses that show your underwear.” 

“I don’t wear underwear.” You inform and he snorts. 

“Exactly,” Namjoon turns to face you with a grin and to your utter disappoinmentt, he looks more amused than anything else. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you…. look like you have…. a lot of baggage.” 

“And you’re not the fucking patron saint of baggage claim?” You snort and Namjoon grins even wider, a dimple winking out - it’s what you liked about him. You could be yourself, instead of the girl who had to hold punches and make nice because that was all Jimin knew. It was what he liked and you so badly wanted to be that. Namjoon on the other hand… that was a guy you insult heavily and would still look at you as though he had the biggest dick in the room. Which, all things considered, he probably did. 

“Look, you’re hot and entirely my type. But hot girls like you always come with drama. And contrary to popular belief I don’t let my dick make decisions for me.” He says, before tugging a cigarette from his back pocket. Disgusting. You hated smokers. Wish they weren’t so sexy. 

“Well maybe you should let my gag reflex - or lack thereof - make the decision for you.” You shrug, tugging the cigarette from between his lips. “It’s non smoking.” 

“Desperate too?” He clutches his heart dramatically, “Jesus Christ, you really are my type.” 

“I’m also really good at begging.” You smile sweetly, moving in closer to him until your breasts are pressed against his chest. His hands come to your waist but it’s more so a natural reaction than it is because he’s interested in you. In fact he looked very much disinterested in you and it was making you wet. You tell him as much. 

“I imagine it doesn’t take much to do that.” He murmurs, but his jab is contradictory to the way his hand squeezes gently at your hips. 

“You’d be surprised I-” 

“___,” Your attention is momentarily drawn from Namjoon and how strong his hands feel and how good he smells really good when you feel a hand at your arm. You blink a few times before frowning at Jimin - who looked mildly irritated, “I was looking for you everywhere.” 

He glances between you and Namjoon a few times before his lips purse. You weren’t sure why - snort - but Namjoon always seemed to rub Jimin the wrong way and you think it might be because he knew of the other mans feelings for his fiance, but you couldn’t exactly outright ask him. You and Jimin were close but hadn’t been close like that… for years now. Right around when he started getting serious with Seulgi. 

Namjoon on the other hand couldn’t look any less unbothered by him, going as far as to send him a small smile. 

“Namjoon,” he says curtly, to which the older boy nods his acknowledgment. Jimin turns back to you with an almost disappointed expression you were all too familiar with. “I was worried about you. You were drinking like crazy during the speeches and then you just disappeared.” 

“That’s because I-” 

“She’s good.” Namjoon interrupts and his hand on the small of your back startles you. And apparently Jimin too, if the way hes scowling at him is any indication. “She’s with me. You can go back in and enjoy the festivities and what not.” 

Jimin holds his stare for a long moment and the testosterone in the room was so intense you were surprised neither of them lifted up a leg to piss on you yet. Jimin looked thoroughly annoyed, and Namjoon on the other hand… he looked cool as a cucumber and ridiculously sexy with his hair shoved back from his face like that. You’re not exactly surprised when Jimin breaks first, “I’d feel a lot better if I saw her get home safe.” 

“Jimin I’m fine it’s-” 

“You’re clearly not great at reading the room so I’ll just go ahead and say it,” Namjoon grips your arm until he’s tugging you back from Jimin - who’s staring at you wide eyed when you collide with the older boy’s chest, “’She’s with me’ is like the universal euphemism for we’re leaving to have sex.” 

“Namjoon!” You whirl around him, but he’s not looking at you - oh no, he’s staring over your head at Jimin. You’ve never seen him look quite so… intense. Jimin rarely got mad, especially with you but when he did he was just as hot as he was scary, with his jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “Jimin, he just meant that-” 

“Be safe.” He says curtly, sending Namjoon a hard look, “Call me if you need me.” 

“She won’t.” Namjoon informs politely, clearly happy at having gotten the last word. 

You wait until Jimin’s a fair enough distance to tug out of his hold, pushing roughly at his chest. Your cheeks are flushed with anger and Namjoon thinks better of telling you it was kind of cute, “What the hell did you do that for?” 

“He’s getting married,” is his blunt response. 

“I’m well a fucking ware, thank you. That doesn’t excuse the fact that you-” 

“He’s getting married.” Namjoon says again, emphatically, his arms going to grip your arms - hard. “It’s done. So stop fucking around now.” 

“Who’s fucking around?” You nearly shout. “I wasn’t doing anything.” 

“You are and you know you are. Stop it. Stop trying to be what he wants or what he likes. Just be you. Stop holding on to this fantasy where he leaves her for you because it’s not real and it’s never gonna happen.” Namjoon says bluntly, and his expression remains cool even while tears are pooling your eyes, his voice lowering softly. “Stop trying to get between them because as much as you love him I love her more and I won’t let anyone hurt her. Even you.” 

“God, you’re such a self righteous dick.” You accuse, but it’s pathetic because you do so with mascara running down your cheeks. You can’t remember the last time you cried, or the last time you felt really since he told you he was getting engaged a year ago. But you hate that of all the people to witness you fall apart, that it had to be Namjoon. “You’re just as pathetic as I am - in fact more. Look at you, what are you, Namjoon? Her knight in shining armor? You’re gonna protect her from a distance, watch over her and never get involved? Grow the fuck up and stop acting like the brooding bad boy who was never good enough for his perfect best friend. I’m not trying to seduce Jimin. You don’t have to worry about me-” 

Your eyes widen when his lips press against yours - roughly. The hand cupping your jaw is nearly bruising, the kiss itself is more angry than anything else and you shouldn’t kiss him back, you really shouldn’t. But you’re so sad and he’s there and for the first time in a long time you feel something other than numb. Even if it is pissed off its better than being sad, than being heartbroken and alone. So when his tongue presses against the seal of your lips you relax, your hands going to clutch at the soft leather of his jacket. 

“God,” he says between kisses, “just shut up.” 

“I’m not talking.” You pant when he presses you against a wall, barely hidden from the bar you were occupying but a second ago. You should be a little more conscious of the way he hikes your dress up but it felt so good. He felt good. 

“This is what you wanted right?” He asks against your lips, a moan slipping out when you feel him press against you just right. “You want me to fuck you until you forget?” 

“Namjoon-” You groan into the crook of his neck. 

“Stop now,” he murmurs, grinding his pelvis into yours and your head falls back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut. God, you were so turned on. He nips at your jaw and your hand goes to his hair to try and keep him there - keep him peppering kisses down the column of your throat, “Because if anyone could break those two up it’s you.” 

You freeze beneath him, spine going stiff. 

“What the hell does that mean?” You ask, shoving him off you. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, only wipes your lipgloss from his lips with the back of his hand, “Exactly what you think it does.”

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seeking a friend for the end of the world by theorgasmicseke

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883118/chapters/13558942

i can honestly say that this is one of THE BEST fanfics I have ever read. i may be biased because theorgasmicseke is one of my fave writers but it really is so good. as is all her stories. 

she on tumblr too! @ the-orgasmic-cypher.tumblr.com

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Q: What is happiness to you? (trans)

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I can’t STAND when you look at me with those long eyelashes + kim taehyung !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (also im lov u)

i love you, i love you, i love you

pairing: kim taehyung | readergenre: fake dating au / fluffwarnings: drunken confessions, suggestiveword count: 966author’s note: i’m lov u more (duh) and congratulations again, my precious genius!!!!!!!!!

It’s one thing to pretend to date someone to get out of a bad blind date because a distant great-aunt thought their neighbor’s granddaughter was a perfect match for you when all they’ve known is how you preferred your broccoli at age five (you didn’t, by the way), but it’s an entirely different thing when you find yourself in a precarious situation without any of the false pretenses.

Somewhere you’ve crossed a line.

Although ‘crossed’ might be an understatement. Crossing doesn’t really necessitate a distance, but it implies a tiptoe over boundaries of some sort. But what you did, what only mildly horrified and sated your ripening desires, also transcends the mere realm of what friends pretending to be a couple do. Because friends pretending to be a couple do not kiss in the private sanctity of one of said friend’s home while their roommates away, and said friend does not usually try to brush away this abrupt circumstance with a mere bat of an eyelash.

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