now someone write me an au where they actually practice sigh

Makin’ Magic Happen

Porn Star!Sam x Porn Star!Reader AU—So entirely NSFW

Originally posted by itsokaysammy

Summary: You get to work with Sammy Winchester for the first time, Mr. Big Cock Super Star
Pairing: Sam/Reader
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (both female and male receiving), kinda choking, hair pulling, spanking (like, only one little spank, but it’s a good one), come play. It’s filthy porn, y’all.
A/N: This is the prelude to a series I’m currently working on. So, get used to reading Sam as a porn star. And maybe—just maybe—some other spn characters as well. Guess you’ll have to wait ;)
update: some users have had trouble opening the fic on Tumblr, so here is the AO3 link if you find yourself unable to open it as well. Sorry for the inconvience!


You walk on set in your typical fashion—hair tied up in a messy bun, prescription glasses resting on the bridge of your nose, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with a grande latte with double espresso in your freshly manicured hand. Part of you dreads how long the day is going to be with shooting and scene preparation, while the other part buzzes with excitement.

“You ready for your scene today?” Penny, your agent, asks, face glowing with just as much excitement. You give her an enthusiastic smile and a quick nod. “Good,” she smiles back, hands coming up to grab at your shoulders, her deep green eyes catching yours. “Sammy’s the best in the business. I hear his cock’s insured for a million dollars.”

“That seems a bit drastic,” you murmur before finishing off your latte.

Keep reading

I Can’t Let You Go Until I Win

A/N: I really liked what I came up with for Wonwoo in my Seventeen as the mafia, so I decided to turn this into a scenario.


Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

Summary: Played poker with him once. He lost. Now he wants a rematch but you keep denying his challenge.

Genre: Mafia AU, suggestive

Word count: 1,476

Originally posted by wonwoowho

“Straight flush” you said laying down your cards.

It wasn’t your first time playing, no but you must admit that you get lucky most of the time and tonight was one of these nights. You were the only woman in the room and everyone’s eyes followed you as you took all of their money. Especially the one’s sitting opposite you.

“This can’t be right. I never lose.” the man spoke.

“Well you just did.” you smirked and walked out.

“Hey!” he shouted after you but you decided not to be bothered by him and went to the counter to get the chips exchanged.

“Don’t you ignore me goddammit.” someone grabbed you by the arm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Keep your hands to yourself.” but he didn’t let go.

“This can’t be right, you must have cheated. I demand a rematch.”

“Are you crazy? I won fair and square, I can’t say the same about you though.”

He seemed surprised by your statement.

“How did you- Never mind that, I can’t lose to you.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“What? No, you don’t-“

“Is this man bothering you, madam?” a security guard finally came to your rescue.

“No. He. Isn’t.” you said taking your arm out of his grasp. “Right?”

He just looked at you and turned to go.

“We will see each other again.”

▲▼▲▼▲

You were kind of creeped out by what he said and decided not to stay in the casino for any longer than you should. You took the money and went to your car.

“What the hell was his problem.” you thought driving away. You couldn’t sleep well that night, thinking about what happened. You were too tired to make anything for yourself for breakfast and went to the café downstairs to get your coffee.

“The usual.” you said.

“I will take the same thing as the girl.” you turned to your right and saw the man from before leaning on the counter. You were about to say something when he spoke.

“I said we will see each other again.” but you didn’t expect him to actually do it.

“How did you find me?”

“I have my ways.” he smirked. You looked around. You don’t feel safe with him.

“Are you searching for escape routes already? That’s sad, I mean no harm. I just want to talk.”

“Yeah right.” you thought.

“Let’s play.”

“What?”

“I don’t need the money, I will get them back when we have a rematch. I just have to win.”

“Is he serious?” you couldn’t help but start laughing.

“What’s so funny sweetie?” he took your hand. “I’m Wonwoo by the way.”

You looked at your hand in his and quickly pulled it out. You took your coffee and went out the door but he followed.

“Hey don’t be so mean! I just introduced myself. At least tell me your name.”

“I’m sorry I have to go.” you said almost running to your car. You had no intentions of getting friendly with the likes of him. For all you know he could be a stalker or something. You looked at him through your rear view mirror and you could swear you saw him wink at you. You had trouble concentrating in work and couldn’t wait to go home and back to bed. You were about to leave when your co-worker came in your office.

“Y/N there is someone waiting for you at the entrance, he said his name is Wonwoo. Do you know him?”

“What? No no no. This can’t be right.” you thought descending down the stairs. You waited for a while before turning the corner thinking if you should really confront him. He seemed dangerous.

“Are you hiding from me?” he smiled coming up to you.

“What are you doing here? How do you find me?”

“Let’s play.” was the only thing he could say. “Come on, it could be fun.”

“I don’t want to. If I give you the money I won, will you leave me alone?”

“I said I don’t need the money, I need a rematch.” he said looking you in the eyes. Somehow you could tell he wasn’t lying but didn’t want to admit that. You could feel this ending up badly if you said yes, so you decided to ignore him and just go.

“Aish, what’s with that girl. It’s not like I’m asking her to do the impossible.” Wonwoo thought.

“Well you will have to play with me sooner or later.” he said to himself, looking at your ID on his phone screen.

▲▼▲▼▲

Lately he’s been getting on your nerves. You’re not scared anymore, you’re annoyed. He shows up out of nowhere at the most random places and always asks for a rematch. You have no idea how he does that but he’s persistent, you will give him that. You actually found him really handsome and were interested to find more about him but avoided doing so, as practically everything about him said trouble. You sighed and got into your car. You almost spilled you coffee when you noticed him sitting in the back seat.

“Wonwoo!? What the fuck?”

“Ooh you finally called me by my name!”

“Get the hell out of my car.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“Come on Y/N, let’s play.”

You only thought for a second where he knew your name from as you never mentioned it to him before answering.

“Geez, can’t you get over it already? I’m not playing your stupid game.”

“I didn’t want for it to come to this.” he said and you gulped when you saw how serious and dangerous his face has become.

“We are going to my place.” he said taking his gun out and pointing it at you.  Your eyes widened at the sight of the gun. Relax. It can’t be real.

“Are you seriously threatening me right now?” you asked him, trying to hide your shaking voice. “Get out of the car.” and to your surprise he did but he quickly came up to your side and opened the door.

“I could say the same for you.”

Not wanting to risk anything you got out. He wrapped his arm around your waist.

“We’re going with my car.” he said guiding you to it. It was a very fancy black car and you started thinking that maybe he really doesn’t need your money. You kept silent the whole ride, only glancing at him every so often.

“Look. I’m not going to kill you.” he told parking the car. He seemed to be living in some sort of hotel. He took your hand and went to the elevator. You couldn’t help but be amazed by the luxury in his suite.

“Welcome.” he laughed. “Have a seat.” he said pointing at the armchair near the table. He went to the other room and came back with a suitcase. He opened it and started sorting the poker chips out.

“I never said I will play with you.”

“But you’re here aren’t you?”

“You took me by force.”

“Then I will put this here.” he said setting the gun on the table. “Just in case.” he smirked.

“Ugh, fine. But only this one time and then I hope to never see you again.”

A very genuine smile spread on his face and you tried not to think how cute he looked.

“Finally.” he said.

▲▼▲▼▲

“Full house.” you laid down your cards.

“Fuck!” he shouted, shoving everything off the table. “Why does this keep happening?”

You stood up. It was kind of scary seeing him this pissed.

“Sit down.” he said calmly but you took a few steps back. He looked you in the eyes. “Sit down.  Don’t let me repeat it for the third time.”

He seemed calm but you knew he’s planning something, so you decided to just fuck it and turned around and ran to the door as fast as you can when he grabbed you by the arm and slammed you to the nearby wall. He pinned your hands above your head and leaned in closer, his face just inches away from yours. His eyes were dark and he looked incredibly sexy. You blinked a few times.

“What the hell Y/N?! Don’t let his good looks deceive you.” you thought as he lifted your chin up, so your eyes would meet his.

“What’s your secret? How come I can’t win against you?” you could feel his breath on your skin.

“I played with you as you asked. Now let me go.” you said.

“I can’t do that. I can’t let you go until I win.” he whispered into your ear. Being this close to him was bad but this made you blush like crazy.

“I have another game in mind.” he said pressing his forehead with yours and nibbling your lip. “Strip poker.” he smirked.


~ Part 2 ~

Massage Therapy

Massage Therapy ½

Bucky x Reader

College AU

This was written for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K Challenge

Prompt: “Do not try and twist this around to be my fault when it’s clearly yours.”

SMUT

Summary: Bucky harbours a crush on you and asks you to help him with an assignment. Things don’t turn out as planned.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (I guess they didn’t have time to work out the logistics? WEAR A CONDOM FOLKS).

AN: It’s really wordy. And I know nothing about kinesiology or muscle groups or massage therapy so please don’t get upset.

WC 1043


Coming home from class that day, you tossed your schoolbag onto the floor and flopped on the couch. You were exhausted and sore and desperately needed a break from school.

Groaning, you heard a knock on the door. Hoping it would be one of your roommates with their own key, you called out, “Who is it?”

“Bucky,” came the muffled answer.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, hauling yourself up. Throwing open the door, you snapped, “What?” and without waiting for his answer, you returned back to the couch.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” he asked, rummaging through the fridge.

Grumbling, your eyes widened when you recalled the emergency chocolate stash you had hidden above the fridge. As Bucky was much taller than you, he could probably reach it easier so you tried sweet talking him.

“Bucky?” you called out, in a sing-songy voice. “Care to be a gentleman?”

He outright laughed at you, “What do you need??

“I’m going to share a secret with you but you can’t tell anyone. Promise?” you pulled yourself upright and looked at him. He nodded his agreement, “Can you reach into the cupboard above the fridge and pull out my emergency chocolate stash? Please?”

You caught him rolling his eyes at you but he abided to your request. You squealed and clapped your hands when he reached it easily and he brought the box of chocolate over to you.

“My hero,” you drawled out, snatching the box from him as he sat on the couch next to you.

Generously, you offered him a treat but he declined, munching on the apple he pilfered from your fridge. “You know,” he began but you held out your hand to silence him.

“I know the apple is better for me but right now, it’s chocolate or wine and it’s too early to drink.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself. What’s the matter though?”

You fell back on the couch groaning. “Ugh. I’ve got three essays due in the next week on top of wrapping up some independent study units. Then, I have a play to review and it’s not enough to read the play but I actually have to trek to the theatre to watch it which normally I wouldn’t mind but I’ve picked up some double shifts at work to try to make extra money so I can maybe - just maybe - pay off some of my student loans.” You stopped to breathe.

“So you’ve got a lot on your plate right now?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “That’s what you took away from that? Yes. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“Perfect,” he smiled at you. “Turn around.”

Keep reading

Build-A-Daddy

or “the college au where lily is a single mom struggling with finishing school and raising a child, and james discovers he quite likes babysitting” (AO3)

(p.s.: thank you to @gxldentrio for being a lovely beta reader!)


Chapter: ½

She’s just another face in the crowd.

But she stands out.

She’s battling her way through the waves of I’m late-s, I should have gone to bed earlier-s and Why haven’t I started that bloody paper yet-s entangling themselves in people’s legs. They trip, but she bears on.

Her hair is made of flames; they lick their way through the sea of people, turning them to ashes, burning a path for her - James is entranced. Her brow is furrowed with decision, and she doesn’t hesitate to nudge someone out of her way with her shoulder, or to make herself bigger with the size of her backpack which looks like it could make her topple over. She parts the flood with sheer determination in her eyes.

She’s unstoppable.

“Hey!”

He goes unnoticed.

Keep reading

Always

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Request: Can you write a smutty mafia boss au where Yoongi is known to be the most heartless person alive and would kill anyone in an instant, but when he comes home he treats his wife like a queen and would do anything for her.

Yoongi adjusts the cuffs of his expensive designer suit as he steps into the elevator.

He catches sight of himself in the mirror of the elevator. He hair is parted at the side, the jet black strands contrast beautifully with his pale skin giving him an intimidating, almost ghostly look. His eyes are cold and unreadable and despite his rather small height, his overbearing presence is enough to make even the bravest of men cry.

He smirks at the younger boy next to him, Jungkook, who seems to be staring at the older in awe. Yoongi had taken Jungkook under his wing a few weeks ago when he’d found the boy battered and bloody on the side of the road. It was unusual of Yoongi to show such kindness, his reputation of being a cold hearted killer preceded him, and everyone had been surprised at his act of generosity.

Maybe Yoongi was becoming too soft.

He would continually insist that he was only using Jungkook for personal gain, the boy was proving to have a lot of potential after all. He could probably make Yoongi and the organisation as a whole a lot of money in the future. Yet, there was another reason Yoongi was so fond of the boy, he reminded Yoongi of himself when he was younger. Back when his final shred of innocence hadn’t been taken away.

When the doors of the lift open, Yoongi takes the lead, confidently striding down the hallway with Jungkook following behind like a loyal little puppy. When he reaches the right room, he swings the door open without hesitation and everyone sitting inside falls silent due to his powerful, intimidating aura.

The only sound that can be heard is Yoongi and Jungkook’s footsteps against the polished wooden floor as they enter. Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi could see Jungkook’s face turning slightly red, he knew the younger hated being the centre of attention. One day he would have to get over his shyness, however, Jungkook always got the job done when it needed doing and that’s all Yoongi cared about for now.

Yoongi sits down at the head of the table, Jungkook sliding into the chair next to him.

No one dares speak.

Finally Yoongi clears his throat “So is anyone going to tell me what’s going on or are you all just going to sit there?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

91, 84, 82, 100, with hobi!

Prompt request: “Help me hide!” + “No, I didn’t murder them. I accidentally knocked them unconscious forever, that’s all.” + “My back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife.” + “You’re my soulmate!?”

Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

Genre: Fluff (I guess?) + Humour

Summary: In a world where soulmates are identified by matching marks, you meet your other half a little unceremoniously (featuring bad boy Hoseok).

Word count: 1.1k words


With a tired sigh, you glanced up at the clock. It was almost ten–closing time. The record store you worked at part-time was located in a sketchy part of town, and you hated closing. Walking home alone was always a frightening experience.

Since you had nothing else to do, you perused through the racks of CD’s, humming along to the music playing from the store’s speakers.

As you were browsing through the 80’s rock section, the front door swung open, banging against the wall loudly. Your head shot up in surprise, your heart beating wildly.

In front of you, there was a boy about your age, donned in all black and a leather jacket. He was panting heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. You were a bit taken aback by his handsome features–a pointed nose, high cheekbones, and a strong jawline.

But more than anything, you were annoyed. The store closed in three minutes.

“Sorry, the store’s clo–”

“Help me hide!” the boy practically screamed, advancing towards you rapidly. “Hurry! They’re going to find me!”

“Who are they?” you squealed, almost tripping over your feet as you walked backwards. “Who are you!?”

“We can save the introductions for later,” the boy said hurriedly, eyes wide in panic. “I swear I won’t hurt you, just lock the damn door.”

Peering into the boy’s large, almost innocent-looking eyes, you couldn’t help but believe him. Plus, you knew you were in danger now, too.

You grabbed the store keys from where they sat at the cash register and darted to the front door. With shaking hands, you jammed the key into the keyhole and twisted the old, temperamental lock.

You turned back to look at the boy, who seemed to visibly relax.

“Let’s hide,” he said, turning to walk behind the cash register. “Just to be safe.”

Left with no other options, you followed the dangerous boy behind the counter, ducking down with him. You were so close to him, able to feel his radiating body heat and hear the quiet sound of him breathing.

Casting a brief glance at the boy, upon closer inspection, you realized his hands were covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” you choked out, falling onto your butt. You scooted backwards until your back hit the wall. You could feel your heart practically beating out of your chest. “Did you kill someone?”

“What?” the boy asked, looking at you, surprised. Then, his gaze shifted to his hands and he laughed. “No, I didn’t murder them. I accidentally knocked them unconscious forever, that’s all.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. “Tonight is the night I die. So young, too. I had my whole life ahead of me.”

“Relax,” the boy laughed. He wiped his bloodied hands on his black jeans, the sticky substance smearing everywhere. “I’m joking. The guy’s not dead. I just momentarily delayed him, hence the hiding now.”

“That’s reassuring,” you squeaked, pulling your knees up to your chest. You could feel your body shaking and your breaths quicken.

“Hey, hey,” the boy frowned, moving closer to you as he sensed your distress. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I swear. No one’s gonna find us, and even if they do, I won’t let them touch you.”

You eyed the boy suspiciously, but you felt your body begin to uncoil.

“I’m Hoseok, by the way,” he continued with a sunny smile, which contrasted starkly against his dark appearance. “Most people just call me J-Hope, though.”

“That’s a pretty lame street name,” you blurted out unthinkingly. The moment you said it, you slapped a hand over your mouth, regretting it instantly.

Hoseok just laughed. “Trust me, it’s not the worst. I have a friend called Baby G.”

You winced at that, smiling a little bit.

“So, what’s your name?” Hoseok asked conversationally.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you replied. Then, you questioned if telling him was a good idea. Belatedly, you realized you were wearing your name tag the entire time.

“Nice to meet you!” Hoseok said cheerily. “Although I wish we could have met in different circumstances.”

“So what happened?” you asked, nodding in the direction of Hoseok’s still slightly bloody hands.

“It was a deal gone awry,” Hoseok shrugged. “It happens sometimes.”

“Are you in a gang?” you whispered, body on alert once more.

“Oh, no,” Hoseok said, laughing in surprise. “I’m actually an underground rapper. One of my friends deals, though, and I was just helping him out.”

You sighed in relief, happy to not be stuck in the middle of a gang war. You lapsed into silence, listening carefully to the sounds coming from outside. In the calm, the sound of Hoseok’s cell phone ringing caused both of you to jump.

Hoseok grabbed his phone and squinted at the display, a frown etched on his face.

“You asshole,” he said immediately, although his words didn’t hold much venom. You could hear the sound of someone talking faintly through the tinny-sounding phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. My back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife, though.”

“Are you hurt?” you gasped, ready to reach for the first aid kit stored underneath the cash.

“Oh, no,” Hoseok said, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Figuratively speaking.”

He turned back to the phone, speaking quickly. Hoseok listed names, presumably of the people involved with the drug deal gone south. Eventually, he hung up and turned back to you.

“The coast is clear,” he announced as he stood up. He stretched his long legs a little bit, then extended a hand to help you up. You took it apprehensively, realizing Hoseok could still feel the slight tremors that ran through your body.

Hoseok frowned at this. He shrugged his leather jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. The warm material comforted you immensely. As Hoseok withdrew his arms, you noticed his soul-mark.

It was quite small and delicate looking, which matched Hoseok’s gentle demeanour and clashed with his bad boy persona. His soul-mark was an abstract, winding pattern that reminded you of constellations. It was also shockingly familiar.

“You’re my soulmate!?” you shrieked, staring wide-eyed into Hoseok’s own large eyes.

He gaped at you, glancing down at your clothed forearm. Hastily, you presented your arm, yanking the sleeve of your shirt up to your elbow. Indeed, the perfect match of Hoseok’s soul-mark was drawn into your skin.

“Fuck,” Hoseok managed, completely awed. He looked back up at you with stars in his eyes. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

- Girl in Luv

Sorry this took so long to write! These prompts were the funnest ones, so thanks for requesting them! Hope you enjoyed. If you want to request an imagine, check out our prompts page for inspiration. Happy reading!

private tutor | part one

request from anon: Can I request a namjoon in college!au? It can be about anything! Maybe a tutor? Thanks and I love your writing!!

Originally posted by yoonkooks

[Namjoon x Reader]

Genre: College!au, Humor

Words: 3535

—> “I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.” You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.” The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

A/N: Joonie can tutor me any day ;) hope you guys like this part one/intro of this series (i’m thinking three parts?)! xoxo


Well, this is awkward.

Keep reading

Letters: #0 The crash [NCT Yuta scenario]

MASTERLIST

This wasn’t requested but I saw a similar idea to this elsewhere and suddenly found the inspiration to write it! This is a 7-part series called Letters and it features Yuta as the main character. Other members are mentioned but they don’t all now each other in this series - it’s basically a little like an AU…kinda. Anyway, I’ll just explain what the general gist of the series is.

Yuta’s girlfriend (aka you) is unfortunately killed in a car accident [don’t worry it’s not all sad and angsty, but this chapter is lol] Yuta is given her belongings after the crash and finds 6 letters that she has written addressed to “the one whom I love”. Each letter has its own chapter (not this one) and therir flashbacks and a bit of dialogue etc. There isn’t really a story to this apart from the fact that Yuta wants to find out why you wrote these letters and when. Which will all be discovered in the final chapter as well as a big plot twist lmfao

I hope you do enjoy this series, don’t let it flop on me lol. Tell me what you think about it and what you think the plot twist might be - I might actually change it if someone says a good one lol. Anyway, enjoy and sorry for the angst in this chapter ! :)

Word count: 2,844

Originally posted by bubwoo

this gif has nothing to do with the actual thing but oh well i’ll make one later


Letters series

  • Letters: #0 The crash
  • Letters: #1 Open now
  • Letters: #3 Open when you miss me
  • Letters: #2 Open when you feel like giving up
  • Letters: #4 Open when you need some optimism
  • Letters: #5 Open when you’ve achieved your dreams
  • Letters: #6 Open when you need a reminder of how much I love you

Keep reading

Fool Me Once

read on ao3

I’m back from my brief hiatus with a fic that absolutely no one asked for! I hope you enjoy it!


Andrew had lived in Baltimore back when he lived with the Stevensons. Baltimore was an ugly city, full of run-down factories and towns that had bigger gangs than budgets, side by side with stadiums and news stations and hotels.

Gentrification, Andrew’s word of the week, was terribly appropriate here.

Gillian Stevenson was a teacher who thought strongly about everything. She was either with you or against you. Unfortunately for the school board, she wasn’t with them.

Andrew would head to her classroom once the dismissal bell rang, listen to her complain as he helped her clean up after her students, and hopefully be given a slice of whatever cake she was pairing with her wine to dull the agony of the impending parent-teacher conferences.

He liked Gill.

Markus Stevenson was a gym teacher Gill had met at one of her old teaching jobs. Markus had been a football player in college and seeing a borderline malnourished child on his doorstep made him want to encourage Andrew to find a passion in sports.

He supposed Markus could be worse.

Keep reading

Plants (Part 1)

Prompt: You get a “tattoo” that says what your soulmate is most passionate about.

Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Reader

Word Count: 928

A.N.: I’m going to try and make a series, but I suck at endings so I don’t know how this is going to work lol. This is my first go at one, so wish me luck, and hope it doesn't suck.  This takes place in the middle of the 5th year.

Originally posted by harrypottersources

(PART 2) (PART 3)

The word on your wrist had always puzzled you. When you woke up on your sixteenth birthday, you had thought it was a joke. That maybe one of your friends had wrote the word with a marker, or a pen. But after the third wash under the tap you knew it was real. Plants. The word was plants. 

Keep reading

When We Collide (Part 4)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: PG-All

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

”I’m here, spill all the details!”

It was as if a huge morning shock went through your body when Nicole practically slammed herself in front of the coffee machine to get your attention and almost made you drop the package of white coffee cops you were about to take out.

“What are you talking about?” You confusedly questioned, you had been so caught up in your own business that your heart had skipped a beat or two by her small jump scare.

Keep reading

What We Already Know (1/?)

Summary: In a world where everyone has a device on their wrist that tells them the exact moment they meet their soulmate, Emma Swan is faced with the rare circumstance of having a blank timer. Things get even more complicated when she starts falling for Killian Jones, who, according to his timer, will meet his soulmate in six months. Captain Swan AU.

Rating: T for now, possibly M for future chapters

Author’s note: So I got this idea from the movie Timer. It’s a super cute movie and I highly recommend watching it! But you don’t need to watch the movie to understand the fic. This fic is for @stunningswan as a VERY belated CS Secret Santa gift! Sorry for the delay, Savannah! I was struggling with whether this should be a one-shot or a multi-chapter fic, and I decided to go for multi-chapter! I hope you enjoy! 




A double shot of rum is placed in front of Emma Swan and she spends no time in grabbing it and throwing it back. When she pulls the empty glass away from her lips, the timer on her wrist catches her eye, the blinking dashes where the numbers should be taunting her.

From the moment she got her timer inserted when she 14, that’s how it had been. “Don’t worry,” the time agency employee had said. “It doesn’t mean that you don’t have a soulmate. It just means that, wherever they are, they don’t have a timer yet.”

That’s what they told her. Twenty fucking years ago. And nothing has changed.

In the time since then, she’s watched everyone around her - friends, co-workers, complete strangers - find their soulmates. Or at the very least, they know when they’re going to meet them. Meanwhile, Emma has been stuck in a cycle of dating that always ended the same way.

Keep reading

You’re a Nerd

Pairing: George x Reader
Request(s): 

  • I’ve noticed that you write a lot of Fred imagines so I was wondering if you could do one with George. I don’t really care what, just something cute with him being overprotective 😊 thanks!!
  • George needs more love :(( I LOVE FRED TOO BUT GEORGE IS BAE. By the way, LOVE YOUR WORK! Makes me giddy inside hehehe

A/N: I didn’t realise how much I wrote about Fred until I went through my Masterlist! Also, I really wanted to write an Imagine talking about why on earth do these kids keep complaining about their homework?? You are at a magic school with magic classes and magic, if only they knew how much we wished we could go there instead!
Squicks: None


You woke up to the whole room spinning, your head pounding as the light from outside filled the girl’s dormitory. You let out a groan of disgust, your throat dry and your nose as stuffed as ever.

“Common cold, nothing too severe,” Madam Pomfrey declared. It was Tuesday morning and you were currently missing out on your favourite class, Transfiguration, which started about 20 minutes ago. “Here, take this and you should be feeling better in no time,” the small woman said, handing you a little cup filled with deep purple liquid. “I bet you wished you could’ve gotten out of class with that one!”

“No way, Madam Pomfrey,” you said truthfully once you had downed the thick medicine, “That’s why I came here, I was hoping to head off to class now actually,”

Madam Pomfrey looked at you with a quizzical expression, not sure if she entirely believed that a student was actually looking forward to going to class,

“Well alright… Off you go then,” she said, nodding her head to the door.

~~~~

You walked into McGonagall’s classroom as she had her back turned to the door, writing quickly on the blackboard. She turned around to see who was going to be interrupting her lesson, not expecting a student to be arriving so late.

“Oh, Y/n…” she started, putting her chalk down on her desk, “You do realise that you’re more than half an hour late?”

“Sorry Professor McGonagall,” you apologise, “I was seeing Madam Pomfrey”.

McGonagall let out a sigh, “alright, talk to me after class”.

~~~~

The bell rung throughout the castle, allowing everyone to get up out of their seats and pack up their things. Not for you though. You stayed where you were, watching everyone try to fit through the doorway at once, desperate to get out of class.

You had never been told to stay back before, and even though you knew you weren’t in trouble, you still didn’t like the feeling. Academic wise, you were up there with the likes of Hermione Granger. You may not know all the answers as well as she does, but you were always passionate about the topics you were learning.

You weren’t the only one staying back, however. Fred and George Weasley had also been told to stay back, this time for having set off a small explosion of some sort. Whatever it was, it had apparently ended up with one hundred tiny rubber balls bouncing rapidly around the classroom.

“I’ll deal with you two in a minute,” McGonagall warned, causing them to break away from their conversation, unfazed by the fact that they were being kept back, again.

“Now, Y/n,” she started, “You said you were up in the hospital wing, is that correct?”

“Yes, I woke up with a cold and she gave me something to cure it, so I came to class as soon as I could,” you replied.

McGonagall looked at you for a bit and gave a small smile, “Not many students would be willing to come back to class once they’ve been given an excuse to get out of it, isn’t that right boys?” she said looking over at the twins who were back to talking again, this comment however shutting them up.

“Yeah, I don’t get that, Professor,” you replied, McGonagall giving you a look as if asking you to continue.

“Well, we’re at a school that practices magic, I don’t get why anyone would not want to come to classes,” you say as if it were obvious, “Our assignments are about turning hedgehogs into pincushions, and how to summon objects, and making antidotes and poisons, how could anyone not find that interesting?”

You hear one of the twins scoff from the seat beside you, but you weren’t done yet.

“I don’t know… as a Muggle, magic is only a thing you hear about in stories, with fairies and superheroes and all that, and it all sounds so amazing and wonderful, but that’s all they are; stories… and just when you’re getting to the age where you’re starting to understand that those things aren’t real, you get a letter telling you that it is all real, and I just can’t understand how people can complain about having homework about magic!”

While the smile on McGonagall’s face was warm and proud of how passionate you were about school, you didn’t even want to look at Fred and George, who were sure to be thinking about how much of a teacher’s pet you were. Almost everyone else in this school thought that anyway…

“Alright Y/n, I’ll let you off on this one,” McGonagall said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “as for you two…”

~~~~

“Hey, wait up!” you hear someone call out after you.

You turn around to see George Weasley weaving in and out of people in the crowded passageway outside of the Grand Hall to catch up with you.

“McGonagall finally let you out, I see?” you smile,

George chuckled, “Yeah, I think we’re growing on her… Hey, listen, about everything you said before—“

“Oh, don’t even say it, I’m a huge nerd for being so obsessed with classes, I know,” you laugh, but you were being truthful in thinking that that’s what George and his brother thought of you.

“Actually, no, it makes a whole lot of sense,” George admits, to your surprise, “We’ve always had magic so we don’t really take note of how cool it really is, so it actually makes sense that you’d want to come to class and stuff, since it’s so different from not having it your whole life,”

“Wow, I didn’t expect you to see it that way at all,” you laugh with surprise and amazement,

“Well, Fred probably doesn’t see it the exact same way, but I get it. You’re special, you know that? I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, if you can fit me in anywhere with that busy homework schedule you must have,”

You return his same cheeky grin that he was giving you, “I think I could move some things around for you, George Weasley,”

“Excellent, I’ll be seeing you around then, yeah?” he says with a wink, walking into the Great Hall, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. Who would’ve thought that George Weasley would fall for a nerd like you.

Language Barrier // Park Jinwoo

-

the prompt: do u think you could write some kind of jinjin soul mate au? the one where if u write on ur skin it shows up on ur soulmate’s? except bc reader is English there’s a language barrier?

words: 1337

category: drabble, minor fluff(?)

author note: idk why but this was actually the hardest scenario to write. i’m sorry it’s so short i just couldn’t think of any sub-plot. please enjoy it anyway :(

- destinee

Originally posted by moon-hyuks

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Rebelcaptain Celebrity Pretend Relationship AU: Three Pieces of Jewelry

Jyn has a perfectly valid reason to show up at his door the day after Cassian’s party: the rose gold and quartz necklace her mother gave her when she turned sixteen is somewhere in his house, and with them flying out to Chicago in two days for their first location shoot, she doesn’t want to forget about it. On his patio it had caught on her hair on her neck, and Leia had helped her take it off to untangle it. But a distraction–Han Solo throwing a soccer ball into Cassian’s vintage turntable that he had put on the lawn furniture–had distracted everyone. Perhaps Leia hadn’t gotten the clasp on right; and Jyn certainly hadn’t noticed that it was gone until she woke up–the couple of drinks in her system hadn’t helped her memory, either. But she wants it back, and she hopes it won’t take too long to find.

To her irritation, her texts and phone calls to Cassian go unanswered, but she’s in the area and figures she can ring the bell and maybe the housekeeper could let her in for a look. In fact, she hopes the housekeeper is the only one there so she can look in peace, but when she rings the door, it’s him. Of course it’s him. And he’s in the middle of buttoning up a dress shirt.

“Jyn?”

“Sorry!” she sputters. “I called and texted but you didn’t answer … my necklace. I lost it here last night.”

“Come in,” he says without asking her any questions, without being rude or snarky, and it surprises her, though she’s not sure why. “I’m sorry I missed your call, but as you can see,” he says sweeping his hand, “I’m in the middle of something.”

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Intertwined - (Bucky x Reader)

A/N- I wrote this for @bionic-buckyb​ who is having an AU writing challenge celebrating 5k followers and this is my submission! Congrats again Kait and I hope you like the fic! Also inspired by the song Intertwined by Dodie, definitely check it out the music video is dope AF!

Prompt- “Just because I don’t physically show you that you hurt me, doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

Words- 1.9k

Warnings- Swearing, and I mean A LOT of swearing, angst but do you guys honestly expect anything different from me at his point. ALSO EVERYTHING IN ITALICS IS A FLASHBACK it will make sense when you read it.

Originally posted by sadie96dr3amz

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Tangled Up In Blue (Hair)

Title: Tangled Up In Blue (Hair)

Pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

Rating: PG (only some swearing from Dan)

Word Count: ~3500

Summary: Fic based on this prompt:

If you dye your hair, your soulmate’s hair color changes as well and you swear the moment you see your soulmate you will choke them because you just woke up with your hair colored like a rainbow and it’s your first job interview at a prestigious company what the fuck.

(Didn’t do rainbow hair though, just blue.)

(Read on AO3)

A/N: This is not beta read, so sorry if there are any mistakes. (Title from the Bob Dylan song Tangled Up In Blue, though it doesn’t really relate to the fic (just thought it fit as a title). Also I’m a photoshop n00b so sorry for the crappy hair edits.)

The first time it happened was when Dan was eight. At that age he only knew of one other person that it had happened to before, she had been lucky though as her hair colour had changed to a sensible colour, he however hadn’t been so lucky. One day he had woken up with bright yellow hair! His parents had gasped when he walked into the kitchen that morning.

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Feeling Alive- Part 13

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction

Part 1 (Slow Hands)

Part 2 (Stay)

Part 3 (There Will Come a Time)

Part 4 (Weapon of Choice)

Part 5 (Came Here For Love)

Part 6 (Where the Sky Hangs)

Part 7 (When Can I See You Again?)

Part 8 (Manhattan)

Part 9 (Skip To The Good Bit)

Part 10 (Poison & Wine)

Part 11 (Clean)

Part 12 (Where To Start)


Second Chances

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 14/17: Second Chances

Word count: 2829

Warnings: Maybe a bit of swearing? Idk guys I’m so tired

OK… First things first THANK! YOU! ALL! In my head I refer to you all as The Ace Gang because you are all ace and I enjoy making references to British teen literature but the main thing to take from that is that you are ACE. And WONDERFUL. And AMAZING. And I’m running out of superlatives, so have a heart <333 Second things second… IT’S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN (nuh nuh nuuh nuh). This chapter, one sort of chapter that’s barely long enough to count but doesn’t fit anywhere else, then the final 4k plus monster (I haven’t actually finished writing it yet but nm) and then the epilogue!!! Third things third I have (with little fanfare) opened requests. So if that’s a thing you’re interested in you know where to find me. OK. That’s everything. Let’s go.


“You took him back?!”

You look sternly at Wanda. “No. I just… I couldn’t throw it away completely. But I’m taking things even slower than before. We’re not even texting.”

It’s true. You’d been walked back to your flat last night by Sam (singing loudly) and Nat (singing even louder), leaving Bucky to deal with Steve. Judging by the glower on Bucky’s face, that had not been set to be a fun conversation. Regardless, this morning you still have nothing more to say to him. This second chance is a tentative, cautious thing- walking across thin, fracturing ice, or leaning out over a precipice with nothing but the wind to hold you back- and your instinct is to withdraw.

Wanda appraises you over the rim of her mug. “You really like this guy.”

“I really liked this guy,” You clarify. “But now…”

A phone trills, and Wanda grimaces as you deal with the squirming mass of emotion in your stomach.

“Sorry, Y/N, do you mind if I take this?”

You wave her ahead, and she lifts the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Leo, what’s up?”

You raise an eyebrow. Leo is your current partner in the Advanced class: loud, cheerful and with a good sense of humour, he’s been the perfect antidote to the past few weeks. OK, he’s not as good as Wanda- but to make the troupe even, she needs to take on the follow role for the competition.  The lady herself shoots you a don’t ask me look as she listens to Leo down the phone. Then, in an instant, her expression clouds over.

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that, Leo. Are you sure-? OK. OK, thanks for letting me know. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you. Alright, bye.” She ends the call, then gives a dramatic groan. You don’t even have to say anything; she sighs and begins to explain.

“Leo’s datemate has just been made redundant. He’s moving down there for a couple of weeks, just while they get back on their feet, but it’s a four-hour drive from here. He called to say he’s dropping out of the competition.” Wanda’s mouth twists, and you frown in sympathy.

“Damn. Can’t you ask Pietro?” Wanda’s brother might not class himself as a dancer, but his natural athleticism and years of exposure to his sister’s training have made him more than capable of picking up routines, and he’s stepped in more than once to fill up the troupe. Wanda, however, shakes her head.

“He’s got a triathlon that day.” She buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled and furious. “I’m doomed. We’re going to lose to Vision before we even start.”

You try not to smirk at her mention of Luiz (who happens to be hosting the afterparty, and if you can’t engineer a situation that ends in the two of them dating you will be forced to admit defeat and eat your leggings), and instead try to think of a solution. Wanda’s right- you can’t perform the routine with one lead down. The dynamics, the symmetry, the impact would all be lost. You need… Someone to step in.

Someone who has experience.

Someone who understands how the troupe operates.

Someone who’s even practiced some of the routine before.

It’s your turn to groan.

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AU #2: Telepathy Isn’t Special (1)

this one i titled Telepathy Isn’t Special. Ain’t that fun? ITS A KURT FIC GET EXCITED

Also it’s pretty much another soul mate au sorta thing but this soul mate thing is a presence in the mind, like you’re linked and can access each other whenever you want but it’s not always.


You grimaced, the weight of another mind pressing against yours and your fingers clenched around your pen.

I’m busy. You shot to the sudden presence and you felt it wince, the unhappiness at being forced away. Your heart twinges and you send begrudging affection toward the presence, feeling it light up.

I missed you. The presence answers and your stomach flips, your lips turning up helplessly. You let the presence bath in your matched feelings before you remind it that you really are busy. This time, it recedes happily, wishing you good luck and you return to the page feeling settled, easier than you were before.

Your pen touches the page before you remember your drink, your eyes scanning the area around you for it only to see it resting, sweating, on the kitchen counter all the way across the room. Your nose wrinkles unhappily and your fingers twitch, the glass disappearing from the bench and reappearing to dampen your fingers.

Taking a sip, you set it off to the side and return to your work, your hand writing out the words as if it was your native tongue and not a long dead language.


“It’s got what we need.” Scott mutters, his face upturned as he glares at the building. Beside him, Jean runs a palm over his shoulder and down his back, easing him and he smiles at her.

“I think the it you’re talking about is a person.” Storm glowers, always displeased with his attitude and Peter nods along with her.

“And why don’t I just go get it?” He adds, offering the girl beside him a goofy grin that she reluctantly returns. “I’m no professor but I can move it.”

Kurt snorts at the half joke, the group recalling the previous nights dance party where most of Quicksilvers moves had been blurs.

“We need the person. They’re a mutant. Their mutation isn’t important, though the Professor told me we need to be careful of it.” Scott butts in, talking over the beginning of Kurts sentence and Storm shares a look with the young man.

“The professor told me.” She mouths to him, poking her tongue out obviously and Jean sighs, the entire group able to feel their leader grind his teeth.

“Here’s how it’s going to be-” Scott begins, the words the same at every debrief, no matter what was happening around them or where they were. Last time, someone’s bullet had just grazed Storm and she was about to go nuclear when he’d cut in with a mission update and calmed the group enough to take down those against them. “Jean’s going to the door, she’s inconspicuous and actually nice.” A pointed look spears Ororo and she growls softly. “Once she’s got the girl talking, she’s going to blank her. From there, Kurt needs to grab her and put her in the car. Then we go home.”

“Why’re we here then?” Peter hums, drumming a rhythm on the street light they were all congregated around.

“In case anything goes wrong. It’s a flimsy plan but it’s the quickest and simplest. We don’t want a fuss.” Scott answers and the group nod, easy understanding filling them.

“Off we go.” Jean grins, bumping her shoulder against Scotts softly, his eyes soft on her, as she turns and heads across the street. Her hands fill her pockets, head down and just slightly nodding, as if she can hear music.


Come on Eileen!” You sing laughingly, sliding and bouncing from spot to spot as you prepare dinner. Your hand flies out, salt appearing in it and suddenly becoming your microphone. “Toora Loora Toora Loo- Rye Aye!”

A knock sounds at the door just as the presence pushes against your mind and you stumble, the salt slipping from your fingers as you catch the counter. The smash echos and you jump, worry pushing against your mind, almost chafing.

“Just a minute!” You try and call over the din, hoping your voice carries over the music. Waving a hand, you dart for the record player, the salt and glass shards disappearing to reappear in the bin behind you.

Panting, you open the door and smile at the red headed girl before you.

“Hello, sorry. I… Uh, was cooking.” You manage, brushing off the fumble with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for a girl named Emily?” She asks, voice clear and precise. Very precise for someone who’s supposed to be confused.

“She lives on the floor below. Exactly below actually.” You answer with a furrowed brow, suspicion in your voice and her cheeks colour.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She answers almost instantly, your words barely out of your mouth. Her cheeks get a little redder and you’re about to question her when the presence shoves against your mind and you make a small sound of fury.

“Stop.” You whisper harshly to it, the words escaping your lips accidentally and you’re the one to blush this time. Your eyes meet the girls in the doorway awkwardly and she grins at you.

“Soulmate?” She asks with ease and you know she’s had practice with it, more than likely that this girl has met hers already.

“Yeah. Likes to butt in all the time.” You answer gratefully only to blush again. “He’s great, he really is. Really nice.”

She nods and the tension eases in your shoulders, your momentarily bitter slip having brought a tenseness to them. You hate when people hate him, when he vents to you.

“I’m so sorry for kidnapping you like this. It was advised that we stretch our legs after last weeks incident.” The strange girl offers apologetically and you rear back. Kidnapping? Incident? You’re inside your home, you have no idea about an incident. What is-

The world goes dark.


“Now Kurt.” Scott orders, the dark skinned boys face drawn and unhappy, but he disappears all the same, reappearing moments later with Jean who supports the stranger in her arms.

“Jean.” Scott chides, moving forward and taking the load from her with an unhappy expression and she smiles at him warmly, opening the car door to settle the body in the back.

The team grumbles as they settle into the seats, Jean taking her place beside a driving Scott and Storm at her side. In the back, Kurt rests his head against the window, worry etched in the lines of his face while Peter makes smart comments that have Scott grinding his teeth.

“It’s okay.” Jean promises, turning to face Kurt, who meets her eyes momentarily before turning back to the racing landscape, the tree’s giving way to a stone wall.

“We’re home.” Scott announces, another ritual, as they drive through the gates.


“Y/N.” The wheel chair guy before you greets and you scowl at him. You’re well aware of who he is. Renowned mutant activist, Charles Xavier and by his side- Raven Darkholme. If it weren’t for them, their entirely recognizable faces and more recognizable acts in support of Mutant rights, then you’d be ditching this joint.

“Mr Wheelchair Guy.” You greet cordially, the scowl almost set into your face by now and Mystique matches it.

“Read this, if you could.” He smiles, ignoring the name calling, and offers you a piece of paper.

“I could. But what’re you going to offer me?” You smirk, taking the page and scanning it. Words highlight themselves before you and you flinch from the page, holding it like a bloody knife. “What the hell is this?”

“That’s what we would like to know.” He answers cryptically and you nearly snarl, wanting to throw the page away.

“I’ll tell you what it looks like then.” You snap, barely holding the paper now and knowing if there was a stiff breeze you’d lose it, not that that would be too terrible. “It looks like a signed confession to mutant genocide. And it’s descriptive as hell.”

Ravens brows furrow and she glances at Charles, who meets her eyes for a moment before looking back at you.

“If you could read it? Aloud?” He asks gently and you hiss a breath, inhaling sharply.

“They’re like the wild sheep in the hills.” You begin, teeth clenched between sentences. “Unclean creatures muddying the bloodlines we’ve fought to maintain. Like the sheep from the hills, we clear them. Like the sheep from the hills, the stones are stained with their blood and we paint our houses with the rich colour. The sheep scream, though never as satisfyingly as those plaguing our streets.”

You pause, looking up at the pair as they watch each other. “I don’t want to read this.”

“You’re the best translator in the country, we must ask you to continue.” Charles says with a blank expression and you wonder what he’s hiding, what thoughts are nestled in his mind.

Your heart stutters uneasily and the presence returns, pushing against your mind nervously and you welcome it. Your longing and affection reaches for it, colliding with it’s own and a smile settles on your face.

I’m sorry I snapped earlier. You apologize and warmth fills you, assurances bleeding through your thoughts. Your heart picks up at the attention and instant forgiveness.

I am sorry I pushed so hard. You flinch from the words, denials bursting from your mind to his and you can feel the small laugh that leaves his lips.

“Please continue.” Charles pipes up, ignoring your moments of silence without a word and you change positions before continuing, a thrum in the back of your mind keeping you warm and safe.


“Talking to your lover?” Storm pipes up from beside Kurt and he jumps, popping out of existence and right back on the other side of her. A laugh tinkles from her lips and he watches her dazedly. “A very lucky girl? Boy?”

Kurt hums at the question, he’d never really cared. You knew he was a boy but he’d never pestered you for that kind of information on your own. He doesn’t even know your name.

“You don’t know.” Storm frowns, a pause after her words before she nods understandingly.

“I went through that, for a while. It doesn’t matter who they are on the outside, just the person they are on the inside. The one that your soul recognises.” She explains and his shoulders droop at the confirmation, an agreement with something he’d never been able to voice.

“That is exactly it. Thank you.” Kurt smiles, Ororo copying it without hesitation before she launches into another topic, his famous mutants education.


there you have it. number oneeee

08. Hawaiian Thunderstorm - BTS Fanfiction

AN*  So I ran across this “Bed Sharing AU” prompt list with 8 prompts and thought it’d be a great exercise to explore writing fanfics again. This is the 8th and FINAL in a series of oneshots(links to others listed below). 

A special thanks again to BTS… for giving me inspiration and re-igniting my passion to write again. (Gif credit to original poster.)

01. Kim NamJoon - Must Have Energy

02. Kim SeokJin - Mama Mo’s,  

03. Min Yoongi - You’re Mine

04. Jung HoSeok - My Hope

05. Park Jimin - Awkwardly Perfect

06. Kim TaeHyung - The BPP

07. Jeon JungKook - Call Me Kookie

Originally posted by bangbangbangtanx


Hawaiian Thunderstorm

Prompt: Hey dude I read that cuddling helps you sleep better, you wanna try it out?

Pairing:  NamJoon x BTS, BTS x BTS, Almost all the ships really…

Genre: The Fluffiest of Fluff

Word Count: 1.1K. (so it’s really more of a Drabble or an Imagine… but whatever.  I love it).

NamJoon lay in bed next to a sleeping Yoongi as he listened to the thunder and rain outside. It was soothing, but it was keeping him awake. There was a bright flash through the window followed by a loud crack of thunder. Yoongi groaned next to him and rolled over to his other side.

The guys had been working hard…really hard, and they needed this trip. Sure it was work too, but not in comparison to endless hours of practice and the physical and mental pressure doing concerts put on them.  Even now, after a few days, they were just beginning to let themselves relax.

NamJoon sighed and closed his eyes, but they flew open again at the sound of the door creaking.  Not long after, he felt someone crawling up the middle of the bed between him and Yoongi.

“Tae, what are you doing,” he chided.

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