stupid heads and the mic covering his face up in that first one

Relentless | Calum Hood Series Pt.12

                                             Part T W E L V E 

Request: Being the cousin of Ashton Irwin was exciting, especially when invited to their tour to hang out with his best friends. You found yourself becoming fond of Calum Hood, who finds you annoying from your constant appearance. But what would happen if you stopped giving him that attention?

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: im alive, still! ((thankfully)) here is chapter 12 for yall ! its a bit steamy so, sexual warning (?) i guess. brace yourselves, bc this was something beyond me. hope you guys enjoy ! :] x

Parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. [DONE]  

                                                    I M A G I N E 

Tokyo, 23:40 P.M.

“The parties here in Tokyo are amazing!” Taka, the lead singer of One OK Rock, gushed. He, along with his band mates, were touring you guys down Tokyo, the busiest and biggest city in the world (though it still fights that title with the Big Apple). The tall buildings were brightly lit with screens of commercials and Japanese icons. You couldn’t help but become fascinated with it. 

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When They Surprise You During MAMA 2017- BTS

YouType : F 

Theme: When you both are suppose to do a duet together for 2017 MAMA - but you both ‘ broke ‘ up so you had to do the song alone - THAT was until he surprised when it came to his part. 


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Could Be Fun

Request: 16 and S.Coups!!

16) A party with your bias group ends with a game of seven minutes in heaven

Member: Seventeen’s S.Coups x Y/N

Type: Fluff


You clutched to the red solo cup Hoshi had pressed into your palm nearly two hours ago. You stirred the clear liquid within by flicking your wrist, watching the bubbles swirl with your every movement. You hated the way it smelled, but you sipped on it nonchalantly, trying to keep your mouth busy so you wouldn’t have to speak. 

Or do anything else with it. 

You heard a collective cheer sound from the living area as two more names were drawn from the jar Mingyu was holding. He and Jun had spent the better part of the evening scrawling guests’ names onto tiny slips of paper and depositing them into the jar, prepping for what they described to be “the most epic” game of seven minutes in heaven anyone had ever seen. 

You tilted your head, leaning up on your tiptoes to see Jeonghan being shoved toward the small closet where the boys’ kept their coats. A gaggle of girls floated behind him dragging a girl with a mint green pixie cut. Both were pushed into the closet where the door was promptly closed. Hoshi, the master of ceremonies, leaned against the door and signaled the time beginning for this round. 

You turned back around and leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath before you drank another swig from your cup. You looked up to the ceiling and closed your eyes, trying to remember exactly why you had agreed to show up to this party. Mingyu had blown up your phone, occasionally peppered in with a passive aggressive text from Wonwoo every now and again, but it was the call from Seventeen’s leader that really sold you.

You had known Seungcheol almost as soon as you had moved to Korea. You had attended some of the same classes in university and grew close as you had similar senses of humor and interests. It was only natural that you would become close with his members as well since they were constant pillars in his life. He was a devoted and busy leader to his group so you had grown apart at various points of your friendship, but you were always close with one member or another during the time in between. You were the group’s unofficial noona (as the spot of eomma was already taken.) 

When Seungcheol’s name had appeared on your phone’s lock screen, he had insisted that the party wouldn’t be a true party unless you had plans to attend. Somehow with his simple request, he had struck a chord within you that you weren’t even aware was there. 

And here you were.

You opened your eyes again just as you felt a small nudge against your arm. You looked down to see Dino breezing past you, a bag of chips in hand. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, his eyes wide. “Vernon and I needed snacks.” 

“Where have you guys been?” you questioned, taking another sip from your cup. “I’ve been here all day and haven’t noticed you at all.” 

“Playing monopoly,” Dino sighed, chewing on his lip. “With Joshua hyung…”

“He doesn’t approve of this, does he?” you chuckled, waving around at the party pulsing around you. 

“It’s not the party that bothers him,” he continued. “It’s the closet kissing game.”

You tried to stifle your laughter at Dino’s name for Seven Minutes in Heaven. “Ah, I see.”

“He wanted Seungkwan to play with us,” he hummed. “But you know how he is when the members pull out the karaoke machine.”

You looked over to the dining room where Jun had set up the karaoke station. Come to think of it, every time you had glanced in that direction, Seungkwan had been holding the mic and singing his heart out. Various party goers had come and gone, but one thing remained the same. Diva Boo was not giving up his spotlight. 

You turned back around as Dino gave a small wave and tiptoed back down the hallway, disappearing into one of the bedrooms where you heard a distinct click of a lock. You shook your head and laughed, pulling yourself up to slide onto the counter top. Maybe if you knocked, the boys could leave you a spot for the next round of Monopoly. 

You kicked your feet as you looked around the kitchen, eying up the snack selection. If it’s one thing the Seventeen boys knew how to do, it was to provide an impressive snack display. 

“Want a carrot?” Jihoon muttered as he stepped in front of you, picking at a vegetable plate. He chewed idly on a piece of broccoli before spinning around. “Maybe some celery?”

“You know me, I go to parties for the vegetable selection,” you grinned. “Having fun, Woozi?”

“Hardly,” he grumbled. “If you didn’t hear, I was the first one to get shoved in that closet. Ignoring the fact that it smells like a hamster’s cage, the girl I was paired with wouldn’t detach from my neck.”

He adjusted his turtleneck to show a large, dark, purple hickey glowing on his fairly pale skin. “My manager is going to kill me. And it’s not like it even felt good. I know she was nervous, but I would have been content with playing rock, paper, scissors for seven minutes to be honest. No one asked her to morph into an octopus and attack me.”

“Who was it?” you asked, wide eyed. 

“She didn’t even tell me her name,” Woozi sighed. “And she disappeared quickly thereafter. Probably to avoid assault charges.”

You laughed and leaned forward, reaching around Woozi to grab a carrot. “The night could always become more exciting.”

“Seven minutes is up!” Hoshi shouted, pounding on the door. He tugged it open to reveal a smirking Jeonghan and a blushing female. “How’d it go?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Jeonghan said smoothly as he sauntered out of the closet. The girl with the mint hair groaned as she shuffled off into the opposite direction, her hands covering her face. 

“Yah, what a showoff,” Woozi clucked from beside you, shaking his head. He scrambled to sit on the countertop as well and began gnawing on a piece of celery. “Have you been chosen yet?”

“I didn’t let Mingyu put my name in,” you nodded. “He knows I would kill him.”

“Really? I could have sworn I saw-” Woozi began as Mingyu began to shout for everyone to quiet down. 

“Alright people,” MIngyu called out. “Let’s get one last couple in before we call it a night….we have…oh! Another Seventeen member! Please step up…our fearless leader, Choi Seungcheol!” 

A deep groan erupted from the corner of the room as Seungcheol was pulled to his feet and thrust in the direction of the closet Jeonghan had just emerged from. 

“And…Y/N!” 

You gasped as your head snapped around. Your pupils shook as you attempted to focus on Mingyu and give him the best death glare you could manage. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to put my name in that stupid jar!” you argued just as Jun turned the corner and grasped your arm. 

“Mingyu may have said that, but I did not,” Jun chuckled. “Next time, get it on paper.”

“Yeah, and then you’d argue that I didn’t get it notarized,” you grumbled. You looked over to Coups, his cheeks bright as cherries. You didn’t want to make it seem as if you were displeased at the idea of being locked into the closet with him because that wasn’t the case. You were displeased by the idea of being locked in a closet in general, especially as a form of entertainment for the partygoers around you. Seungcheol’s comfort shouldn’t have to be compromised to make the party atmosphere more interesting. 

But you couldn’t get that argument out as Jun tugged you along and shoved you into the dark and damp closet. 

Coups was thrown in after you, the wood door slamming with a fair amount of strength. He stumbled forward, knocking you into the thick coats behind you. You were both breathing heavily, a mix of nerves and adrenaline, as you stood chest to chest. You were very aware of his body heat and heart pounding just a few inches from yours. 

“Am I standing on top of shoes?” you whispered. 

“Hold on,” Coups sighed. You could hear shuffling noises as he fumbled around in the darkness. Finally you heard the click of him tugging on the pull string to the lamp. “Yes, those are shoes.”

“You had to confirm?” you chuckled. “Don’t you live here?”

“Not in the closet,” he muttered, looking around with a wince. 

Your eyes traced across Seungcheol’s jaw slowly, across his cheekbones and down his nose. Your breathing grew more shallow as you continued to look at him. He really was handsome. It was amazing how when forced into situations like these, you started subconsciously seeing people differently. 

You chewed on your lip as you continued to look at him, curious if he saw you as a sister or as a friend…or if there was anything more. He kept his eyes averted, busy counting the coats behind you. 

“Are you having fun?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“Right now or in general?” he chuckled, a warm smile on his face. His eyes finally lowered, meeting yours for the first time. 

“We hear an awful lot of talking in there!” Mingyu shouted, pounding his fist on the opposite side of the door. 

“Aigoo, won’t you be quiet,” Coups shouted back, giving a half hearted knock on your side. He turned back to you and shook his head. “I’m sorry about them. I knew you wanted to keep your name out of this.”

“And you did too,” you whispered. “I heard you pull Jun aside.”

“Mingyu told me I should’ve gotten the agreement in writing,” Coups clucked. “I can’t wait to get that beanstalk in the practice room tomorrow. He’s going to dance until his knee caps fall off.”

“That’s an interesting body part to fall off,” you giggled. “I surely thought his feet would go first.” 

“He’s got weak knees,” Seungcheol muttered. “You should try getting a piggyback ride from him sometime. Falls right over.” 

You chuckled, leaning back into the coats. Your foot slipped as you moved, your ankle bending around one of the boots you were precariously teetering on. Bouncing from the coats behind you and attempting to regain your footing, you fell forward, placing your hands on Seungcheol’s chest to steady yourself. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered, patting down a stray hair now at his eye level. You nodded as you pushed from him, but he kept you held close. “We only have a few more minutes in here…um…we should probably you know…at least mess up our hair or something? Make it look like something happened?” 

“Why play into it?” you hummed, your face only inches from his. “You’ve never been one to give into pressure.”

“Well…it’s kind of fun,” he nodded. “Throw away your inhibitions and kiss someone because the universe happened to match up your names randomly.”

“I’d hardly call Mingyu the universe,” you chuckled with a wink. 

Aigoo,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“So what you’re saying is…it would be fun if we kissed…because you believe fate made MIngyu pick our names out?” you asked, lifting your brows. 

“When you say it like that…” Coups grumbled, looking down to his feet. You instinctively placed your fingers on his jaw, lifting up his face to force him to look at you again. 

“It could be fun,” you whispered carefully with a small nod. Seungcheol’s eyes snapped forward to stare into yours, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“You think?” he hummed, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“I think,” you nodded. Seungcheol’s lips hovered before yours for a moment before he placed them cautiously on yours. His movements were tender and sweet, filled with a rawness you weren’t prepared for. He reached up slowly, cupping your face in his long fingers, keeping you still. You felt your cheeks growing hot as he held you, letting his lips tell you more than he ever really had. 

“Times up!” Hoshi shouted, yanking the door open. Coups quickly dropped his hands from your face and sprung backward. 

“You two…you two were kissing…?” Mingyu trailed off, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you and Coups. 

“Well, seeing as how you couldn’t see through this door,” Coups whispered, looking over to you with a wink. “Sounds like gossip to me.”

You closed your eyes, trying to hide the chuckle desperately trying to escape your mouth. You opened them again to focus on Seungcheol’s lips.

“My previous ability to see aside,” MIngyu continued, furrowing his brows. “I can see perfectly fine now and I’m pretty sure Y/N’s lipstick isn’t your shade…so why is it on your lips?” 

Seungcheol’s eyes grew wide as he looked to you and touched his lips gingerly. Mingyu grinned and leaned forward, patting Coups on the shoulder. “Nice try though.”

Originally posted by scoupstv

Crisis of Confidence

I’m having the worst time writing. Like many of us writers, I think that my writing is shit. When this happens, I turn to fan fiction. But even now, I’m dying over this.

So here’s a snippet. I normally wouldn’t do this, but I I’m posting an unfinished piece to see what people think. This is my first attempt at a Reader narrator, and I think that’s throwing me off. Thoughts?

Seth RollinsXReader

—————-

You’re in the middle of a mixed tag team match. Your partner, Seth Rollins, currently had a choke hold on Chris Jericho. Charlotte glared at you from across the ring. You were the new number one contender to the women’s championship. The match was weeks away, but this would be the first time in months that you were paired against Charlotte. She was more than intimidating. You were determined not to let your fear show.

Jericho broke the choke hold, wiggling away from Seth quickly enough that he tagged in Charlotte. Because of the stupid rules, that meant you were in.

“You got this,” Seth said as you switched places.

You vaguely registered the fact that he was especially attractive when he was sweaty. The thought completely drifted away when you locked eyes with Charlotte.

Her smile was smug. And for good reason. You slowly circled each other. You felt like prey being stalked. The feeling didn’t sit well with you.

You attacked first.

In a blink, you were on the ground. Charlotte had the cover. You kicked out at two.

You scrambled away on your butt. You needed to focus. You needed this win.

“Get up, dammit,” Seth yelled.

You growled in general annoyance. Using the ropes as leverage, you pulled yourself to your feet.

You could do this.

You charged Charlotte, grabbing her around her middle. The crowd roared as you flipped her over your head in a suplex. You hooked her leg.

Jericho broke the cover by dragging you away by your leg. You flailed, kicking at him. Seth appeared, superkicking Jericho, who let you go as he fell.

Fuming, you started kicking Jericho’s middle.

“Whoa, whoa,” Seth grabbed you by your middle and dragged you, flailing, away from Jericho. His bare chest was slick and warm against your back. For a moment, you didn’t hate the skimpy sports bra you were wearing.

“Put me down!” You shrieked. You elbowed him in the stomach, rolling away when he dropped you. You turned on him, fuming. He was bent over, clutching his stomach. “I don’t need your help!”

When he straightened, his face was set in anger. He started to say something, but you pushed him as hard as you could. The crowd reacted with “oooh”s.

Seth barely budged. His jaw clenched as he glared at you.

Then an arm was around your middle and Charlotte pulled you into a small package. Surprised, you didn’t react in time.

One, two, three.

The bell clanged and Charlotte let you go.

You covered your face with your hands. Once more, you let your temper get the best of you.

When you opened your eyes, Seth was standing over you. His hands were clenched into fists.

“What was that?” He demanded.

You slowly climbed to your feet and ignored him. Charlotte and Jericho were already down the ramp, celebrating their victory. You watched them, angry and defeated.

“Hey, hey, hey. Y/N, I’m talking to you.” Seth’s voice suddenly came over the arena. You turned to find him with microphone in hand. “What’s wrong with you? You claim to be a fighter, huh? You’re the best thing to happening to the women’s division, huh?”

Without a microphone, you raise your chin, glaring at him the best you could.

“You’re nothing but a pain in the ass. A whiney little girl.”

Your anger boiled. You stomped over to Seth. He didn’t move when you pushed at him again. Damn his strength.

You grabbed the microphone out of his hand. “I’m a pain in the ass?! That’s rich, coming from the cockiest jerk in the company. Tell me, Seth, when was the last time you won a match when it mattered? Huh, ‘champ?’ When push comes to shove, at the end of the day, you can’t. Get. It. Up.” The crowd went crazy at that.

You dropped the mic at his feet. In your haze of hurt and anger, you made the stupid mistake of staring at him and taking a step closer. The look on his face was dangerous. You didn’t care. You weren’t going to take his brand of shit anymore.

That’s when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. Then his mouth was on yours and your head was spinning and the crowd was roaring or was that the blood in your ears?

You kissed him back because damn if you haven’t thought about it. And like everything else, he knew what he was doing.

He broke the kiss first. His self centered smirk turned your passion back into rage.

Two can play this game.

Bracing yourself with his shoulders, you jumped up, pulling his face back down to yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The bastard held you as if you weighed nothing.

Then you maneuvered so your legs were at his shoulders and your head was near the ground. And you threw him in a hurricanrana.

You left him, stunned, in the middle of the ring.

Everyone stared at you backstage but no one talked to you. You stormed into the women’s locker room and punched one of the metal lockers. The wrap around your knuckles numbed the pain.

“You ok?”

You looked up. Bayley, Nia, and Sasha were in the locker room. You didn’t even know that they were still here.

“Peachy.” Your cutting tone proved that you weren’t so peachy. You swung another punch at an open locker. It slammed shut with a satisfying bang.

The door to the locker room swung open. You glared at the entrant.

Seth FREAKIN Rollins. With his bare chest and his drying hair and his god damn arms.

“Get out,” he growled, casting a glance at the three other women.

You ignored everything around you as they left. You started unwrapping your knuckles, really pulling at the tape.

“What the fuck was that?”

You continued ignoring Seth, turning your back on him. One hand was free from the tape. You worked on the other hand.

“Don’t fucking turn your back to me.” His hand on your shoulder. It took all your effort to not flip him over your shoulder. Or try, anyway. You knew he only sold that hurricanarra because it would look cool, because the audience would pop, because his reputation could take it.

That pissed you off even more.

But you let him spin you around. You slapped his hands away.

“Don’t touch me, Rollins,” you said.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, right at the root. “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“Let. Me. Go.”

He leaned in so that his mouth was right next to your ear. His hair tickled your cheek. “Make. Me.” He whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

You snaked your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp as you pulled tight, and tugged at his hair. Hard.

It surprised him enough that he released his hold.

You put a good five foot distance between the two of you. He was bigger, but you fought dirty. There was a reason most of the fans hated you.

“What is your problem?” You yelled.

“My problem?” He cackled there, that infuriating cackle. “Sweetheart, you’re the one with the problem.”

“Yeah, and that problem is named Seth Rollins.”

“Please.” He oozed attitude. “I’ve seen you look at me, babe. You’re just pissy because I won’t fuck you.”

Won’t. That one word hit you in the stomach like a bullet.

Won’t.

You weren’t like most of the women in the division. You didn’t care about looking sexy or being sexy or pretty or anything. You wore pants and boots, not cute bright ones like Bayley, but dark ones. You didn’t wear skimpy tops. You wore sports bras and a tank top. Your hair wasn’t long and curled. You kept it shoulder length and out of your face in two french braids. You were here to kick ass. To dominate. To show them that the women could be just as good as the men.

But it worked too well.

Because even Seth Rollins won’t look your way twice.

You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but you refused to cry, especially not in front of him.

Instead, you ripped off the last of the tape from around your hands.

And somehow your anger grew even more.

“Why did you kiss me in the middle of the ring, then?” You asked. Calmly. Too calmly.

Smug. Egotistical. You needed a thesaurus to describe his smirk. “Because I needed to shut you up somehow.”

You smiled. But it was your crazy smile.

“So you’re a tease,” you said.

“I’m not a tease.”

You sigh. “Then I was right. You really can’t get it up.”

He laughed. “This is your plan? This is how you’re trying to seduce me?”

“Rollins, if I were trying to seduce you, you’d be on your back and I’d be sitting on your face.”

“I don’t think so.”

You stepped toward him. “Is that a challenge?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Why?”

You were chest to chest now.

“Because,” his lips hovered over yours. “I’d have to be interested.”

Your breath hitched as his lips grazed yours, soft, barely there. More like a whisper than a kiss.

“And I’m not.” His heat was gone suddenly. You blinked, unable to focus for a moment. When you did, he was smirking again, across the room, arms folded, biceps bulging. Then he was turning, walking away, leaving.

“What?” You asked. Everything was confusing for a moment. He had that effect on you.

“I said,” he spelled it out slowly, as if your english wasn’t too good. “I’m not interested in you.”

And then he was gone. Final words and all.

You tugged at the last of the wrist wraps and pretended that your eyes weren’t blurry with tears.

michael clifford + mgc / smut

>synopsis ~ michael was the boy who played at the pubs down the road, you were the girl who wouldn’t stop thinking about him
>requested ~ nope
>word count ~ 4.2k
requests are sent in here // masterlist

Michael Clifford was an esoteric boy.

He sat on the pavement beside one of the oldest book shops in town, with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book nearly as tattered as the shop it came from balanced in his hand. He had hair too blond to be natural, and eyes too beautiful to be ignored. When it rained, he headed inside the shop, and leaned up against one of the bookshelves. He was never away from the music section, unless he ambled over towards the section of beliefs and was reading a book with something to do with astrology – or was it worldwide beliefs? You were never sure, it was either one of them, though. He never looked up from between the pages, unless it was to let one of the employees know that no, he doesn’t plan on standing there the whole day, although he really does.

How did you know? You went to that book shop every day. At first, you weren’t very sure about that strange boy who never left the front of the shop. But, word got around quick, and despite you being so new to town, it was only a matter of two weeks for you to hear about Michael Clifford. It wasn’t much of hate-filled rumours, but more of him being one of the few people in your dull town that actually did something – music. Every regular at the downtown pub – which was, quite frankly, pretty much everyone – knew him and his famous open mics. Unlike the other performers, he never spoke to the crowd, or tried to crack jokes to break the ice. His music and strums across the guitar were enough for everyone, and he ended every night with a bow, and blowing a two-fingered kiss to the crowd which had all the girls swooning. You went to his show one day, and you weren’t sure if anyone noticed the kiss was rather sarcastic – his approach to making fun of every pop heartthrob there was. You went back there every Friday after that, but found your relief for curiousity when you found him at the bookshop near your house.

It wasn’t that much of a secret you had a crush on this Michael Clifford guy, and although you tell yourself time and time again you’re just one of the many girls, there’s a part of your heart that swelled at the very thought of just being with him – holding his hand, touching him, being the true reason he blows kisses to the crowd. Not only the superficial romance, either – you wanted to know when he wrote all the songs he performed. You wanted to know what his first guitar was, and how he started playing, and how long for. You wanted to ask him why he always came to the book shop, and what did he know about astrology and worldwide beliefs. You wanted to hear how his voice might sound as he spoke to you, how it might sound when saying your name. You would twist around in bed just thinking of him, a schoolgirl crush by a girl who just finished school.

When you next saw him at the book shop, he still remained reading beside the beliefs section, his hands around a book titled Planets in Transit. Swallowing, you loitered beside him, pretending to scan some of the books laid out before you. Your fingers trailed across the covers, until they reached where his back leaned against the shelf, obscuring the rest of the titles. You raised your eyebrows to him, not sure what you were hoping for him to do. Look at you? Speak to you? Have an epiphany and suddenly think you’re gorgeous? He didn’t even glance up from his book when he mumbled ‘sorry’ and moved from your way. Disappointed, you sighed, turning your head to the books he uncovered. Picking up a book, you read through it. Something about astrology, you already knew. Looking up at him, you sigh, mustering the courage to talk to him.

“Hey,” you said bluntly, this time making him look up from his book with an incredulous expression.

He glanced from you to his book. “Hey?”

The embarrassment hit you like a truck. He must’ve seen the flush on your face as he smiled to himself, shaking his head and closing his book. You saw that as a chance to continue your conversation, despite wanting to dig yourself a whole and bury yourself. “Yeah. Hey. How are you? Where do you plan on playing your next gig?”

He frowned, turning around and putting his book back. “Oh. So that’s what this is about.”

Quizzical, you stepped forwards. “What?”

There was a pause, and he tapped the book he just put on the shelf. “You’re only talking to me because I’m ‘that guy who performs at the pub’, not because you’re genuinely interested in me.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m so done with people doing that.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “You think I’d waste my time like that? Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that famous.”

His eyes met yours. Your response obviously took him back, as he began to stand straighter, clearing his throat and standing back to scan the bookshelves. You immediately think what you said was a mistake, that you were supposed to be kind for your first impression, and your heart leapt into your throat. You didn’t face him, and started to walk out of the beliefs section. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Of course not, you’re not the type of girl to waste your time,” he told you, and you stopped, still not facing him. Your fingers loosened their fists, and you heard him approach you. “My presumption was obviously wrong, then.”

“Rather.” You pressed your lips into a line, this time, spinning on your heel to look at him. Bravely, you lifted your gaze to his, which held much amusement to your interaction with him. The annoyance burned out, and you sighed, crossing your arms and looking back at the bookshelf. “So, I take it you don’t enjoy talking about the only thing there is for you to take pride in?”

Laughing, he raised his eyebrows, clearly charmed by your moody character. “Who said music is the only thing I take pride in?”

“Well, I’m assuming. It seems like we’re both rather good at that, doesn’t it?”

He gave you a smile, which, you hated to admit, made your heart flutter. Attempting to hide your flushed face, you stalked off into the fiction section, picking out a random book and hiding yourself behind it. He followed you there, and touched your shoulder, leaving you burning a brighter red than you thought you would. Taking the book from yourself, you stared up at him, toeing your shoes on the ground. You had no idea why you were suddenly so confident towards him, but it all came crashing back down into a sea of regret and embarrassment.

“You’re quite interesting, if I may say so myself,” he remarked. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone so pretty with such a sharp tongue.”

You clasped your hands to stop them from trembling. “Well, that’s one I’ve never got before.”

“You’ve never been called pretty?”

“Oh, I’ve been called pretty lots,” you lied, “and I’ve been told I have a sharp tongue. Just never in the same sentence.”

“Why might that be?”

“Most boys don’t really enjoy admitting that a girl who has a quicker wit than them is pretty.”

Impressed, he leaned his shoulder against the bookshelf, and watched you rummage around the books and scan the blurbs fake intently. He didn’t think of you as much, at first, but it was your mind that stirred him – the quick responses, the comebacks, the flare in your eyes when he questioned you. Promptly after he saw just how smart you were, he saw the beauty lying within you as well, making him forget a moment when he saw you as ordinary. He gave you a measured look, then stepped closer towards you. Swallowing, you kept your gaze on the books.

“So, pretty girl, what’s your name? Or would you rather me keep calling you ‘pretty girl’?” He bit his lip.

'Pretty girl’ does sound fitting, but my name’s Y/N.” You tapped your foot beside the bookshelf. “What’s your name?” You looked at him, tease playing in your eyes.

He chuckled. “Don’t act like you don’t know my name. You’re the one who approached me.”

“Oh, okay, Mitchell, was it?” she said, and he rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Michael, what else is there to know about you, other than the fact that you’re a self centred musician who plays at open mics at the pub down the road?”

Shaking his head, he licked his lips, which you couldn’t help but to glance down at. Jutting his chin towards the door, he told you, “come on a walk with me, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Where will we be going?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“I can’t go with you, then.” You turned back to the books, pretending to not care whether he leaves without you, or not.

“What a stubborn girl.” He lowered his lashes, then lifted them to catch a glimpse of you once again. “We’re going to the park beside the pub. I wanna play guitar for you.”

You waved your hand around the area. “Where’s your guitar?”

“Ah.” He began out of the door, holding it open for you to follow him. “That’s something I can’t tell you, yet.”


Turns out, he had his guitar kept in the back of the pub, seeing how often he went. You both remained in the field, you lying down amongst the grass, and him sitting cross legged beside you, tuning each of the strings while watching your chest rise and fall as you breathed. He couldn’t understand how he was so attracted to you in such a short time – just by seeing how you acted, the way you spoke, it was enough for him to be smitten. You reached up and played with your hair, accidentally pushing it over your eyes. He pushed it away, and you gave him a surprised raise of eyebrows.

“I should at least be able to see your face, shouldn’t I, pretty girl?”

“I was afraid I would take your breath away if you stared any longer.” You bit your lip as he watched you, strumming a chord distractedly.

“It’s a risk I’d be happy to take,” he told you, and you looked up at the clouds, until you saw from your sideview that he had taken out a cigarette box. Catching your stare while picking out a cigarette, he rose an eyebrow. “You smoke?” Setting the it between his teeth, he looked down, cupping a hand around it and lighting it. Smoke breathed out through his mouth.

“I could.” Leaning up, you took the cigarette from his mouth, and took a drag. He watched your lips as they blew out smoke, and took it back from you, inhaling and blowing it away from your face. You grinned. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“You don’t know a lot about me.”

“So tell me.”

Sitting back on the grass, he balanced his guitar on his lap. “Well, you already know my name. I’m eighteen years old, and the one thing I want to do more than anything in this world is to become a musician. I, if not made obvious, have the dying need to matter in this world.” He played some barre chords across the neck, keeping the cigarette in his mouth. His words were mumbled around it. “I grew up in a house with me, my mum, and my dad, and we were a rather economically unlucky family. But we loved each other a lot. We still do. We own the pub, which is why I perform there so much.”

You smiled up at him, nodding for him to continue.

“I dye my hair. Too much, in fact. It was red last month, blue the month before, black the month before.”

“Isn’t black hard to dye out?”

“My point exactly.” He inhaled another drag. “I love – or as you would say it – 'believe’ in astrology. It helps me explain things, and it helps me make sense of things I usually wouldn’t. It lets me understand people and just, I don’t know, get a head start on them.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re getting to know someone without actually getting to know them.”

He laughed. “You could say that.” Reaching over, he pushed your hair behind your ear. “What about you, pretty girl? What is there to know about you?”

You tilted your head. “That wasn’t apart of the deal.”

“I just made it apart of the deal.”

Biting your lip, you sat up, eyes flittering towards his mouth. He caught you, and set his palm on the side of your face, nearing you closer. You could’ve kissed him, right then, but stopped yourself.

“That’s another story for another day,” you said gently, and pecked his bottom lip, barely feeling anything other than its chapped surface and his sharp intake of breath.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “If I take you somewhere else, somewhere quieter, will you follow me?”

“What would we be doing, in that 'somewhere else’?” You pulled away from him slowly, gauging his reaction.

“Everything you want us to.”

You took his hand, and he stood up picking up his guitar as you followed him out of the park and around the short walk to the back door of the pub. He said hello to a rosy woman wearing an apron, laugh lines around her mouth, and a head of greying blonde hair working at the counter of the pub. You assumed her to be his mother, and gave her a warm smile while he introduced you to a couple people, before setting his guitar in the back and taking you up a winding staircase to the upper floor. It was a storey of rooms, and he lead you to the first bedroom on the right, the door covered in band stickers. Opening it, he walked in, and you were surprised at how tidy it was – books tucked neatly into all the shelves, bed neatly made, a desk stacked with textbooks, it all seemed rather unlikely for his appearance.

“Is this the part where you kiss me?” you mumbled as he pushed you up against his shut door, your arms around his shoulders while his hands found your waist.

“How did you know?” He leaned over, and his mouth met yours in a hot kiss.

You sighed, the revelation of the day’s tension wearing off for each kiss you shared. He took your wrists and pinned them to the door above your head, leaving you helpless beneath him as he pressed his lips down your neck. Closing your eyes, you felt him hitch up your shirt, setting his cool hand on your waist before releasing your arms and lifting it up, waiting for you to pull it over your head. His green eyes were dark, and met yours in apprehension that made you blush just noticing. You took your top off, throwing it on the floor and tugging him close to you once again, but he stopped you, staring down your body.

“The body of an angel,” he marvelled, his fingers running from your collarbone to the curve of your breast. “Fucking hell, I want to touch you so badly.”

You smirked, pulling the string of your skirt and letting it fall to the floor. You remained standing in your white underwear, with Michael centimetres from you with his arm resting right beside your head. He stroked your thighs, letting his palm slide between them and edge around your clothed core. You inhaled, grasp moving to his arm and trying to move him closer to you. Not complying, he grinned, lowering his eyes and kissing you. His lips were always warm, and fitted along yours perfectly. Your hands messed his hair, and he spun you around, walking you onto his bed before letting you fall back onto it. He pulled his shirt over his head, his blond hair sweeping over his forehead as he did so.

“Speaking of the body of an angel…” you said softly, and he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. You sat up, and he pushed your bra strap from your shoulder, kissing the space he revealed for himself. “Michael…”

“I love how you sound saying my name.” He played with the cup around your breast, then unclipped your bra, tugging it off your shoulders and inclining close to you, his lips ghosting over yours. “You sound so sweet.”

The cold air in his room hit your nipples before his mouth met them. His tongue lapped at your tight nub, flicking his gaze up to yours to check your reactions. You breathed out, stroking his hair and arching your back so your chest drew more towards him. Your heart raced so hard, you were afraid he could hear it, so relief washed over you when he pushed you gently back onto the bed, his fingers moving your underwear down and running over your clit. You could barely believe that the boy you saw walking across the stage at the pub every week finally knew who you were, calling you 'pretty girl’ just because he knew you secretly liked it.

Propping himself up beside you on his elbow, he ran his hand down your stomach, a shiver residing your skin. The pad of his middle finger circled your clit, while his hand parted your thighs wider, so your leg was draped over his hip. You sighed at his touch, dropping your head to the side and closing your eyes, inhaling the scent of his naked chest beside your face. You could faintly hear the sound of all the diners in the pub downstairs, and the clatter of cups, but you were already lost in Michael’s heavy breaths, and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth every moment he picked his pace up on your clit. Straying it, he moved to your core, running a finger up before pushing it in. He set a hand on your lower belly, feeling how it rose as you took in a breath.

“Shit…” you said under your breath, and he curled his fingers, your heart leaping in delight. “God, you’re good at this.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in close, catching your mouth in a kiss and slipping his finger between your folds. You melted back into the mattress, lips hanging off his as you moaned into his chest, digging your nails into his soft skin. He smiled into your hair. “You’re so responsive, baby.” Proving his point, he slammed his finger into you and curled around your G-Spot, making you quiver and bite your lip, nose nudging a birth mark below his collarbone.

You could feel his knuckles brush the inside of your thighs through each pump he left from his finger, slowly sliding another in and stretching you out the slightest bit. Your eyes fluttered open, and you caught him gazing at you, his lidded eyes staring at you while his lip was bit between his teeth. You struggled to keep your regard on him, and when he picked up his pace, you submitted to darkness once again, whining into his chest and grinding your hips up. Reaching down, you ran your fingers over his wrist, trying to feel how he moved when he touched you. Your stomach tightened, and you moaned, digging your nails into the bed. The sound of his fingers moving into you was enough to make you even wetter. He pulled out completely, and you watched him kneel up on the bed, taking your hand so you followed suit. You sat in front of him, lips flushed, naked, and hair messy over your tired eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking at you a while longer before unbuckling his jeans, just the sound perking you up a little more. He pulled them off his legs and kicked them on the floor, leaving him in his grey boxers with a semi bumped underneath it. He palmed himself, the sight of you making him harder. “Do you wanna suck my cock, Y/N? Hmm?” You nodded, but that didn’t suffice for him. Taking your head in his free hand, he put his thumb in your mouth, dragging it across your bottom lip. “I want you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

Please let me suck your cock, Michael,” you said, eyes locked on him. He moved his thumb from your mouth and hooked it into his boxers, shifting them down so his member sprung up. You wrapped your hands around him immediately, gazing up at him in gratitude. He stared back at you with his lashes lowered, lip between his teeth as you turned back to his length. He was bright red at the tip, a vein running down his thickness. “Fuck.”

He hummed, stroking your shoulder. “I can’t wait for your mouth, Y/N,” he said, the catch in his voice letting you know he was growing impatient waiting.

Smiling you, pumped him a few times, the warmth of him in your fist stirring your stomach. Leaning over, you flattened your tongue against him, licking all the way up to the tip before popping your mouth over him. He took in a sharp breath, and you took more of him, slowly moving down to his base before moving back up again. The mattress creaked as he reeled, gripping onto the bed frame to keep himself balanced. You pulled away from him, wiping the saliva from your chin and touching his glistening shaft, before wrapping your warm lips around him once again. Flicking your eyes up, you met his gaze, dragging your tongue to his base and flicking it along the soft skin of his. He groaned, throwing his head back as your mouth ran over him, back to the tip. Your hot breath along his erection made him grip the headboard until his knuckles were white, and he exhaled when you swirled your tongue around him once again.

“Oh, my fucking God,” he muttered, and pushed your hair away from your face once your mouth was around him once again. He held you in place, bucking his hips up between your lips. He hissed through his teeth. “I love fucking that little mouth of yours, baby. You’re makin’ me feel amazing.”

He pulled out, running his tip along your bottom lip. You looked up at him. “Michael, I’d hate to sound impatient, but would it be so hard for you to fuck me into this mattress? Like, right now?”

He chuckled. “Turn around, Princess. I wanna take you from behind.” You did as told, your forearms pressed against his bed. Staring at his wall, you anticipated for him to do something – anything – to rid the ache between your legs. His grip found your hips and he slid his cock between your thighs, filling you up completely. You both tensed, for a minute, and he stayed still for a moment. “Oh, shit, you’re so tight.”

You hummed, leaning into his pillow, grinding your hips onto his as he adjusted. He began to thrust into you, letting you feel every inch of him touching you. Gasping, you scratched at the bed sheets, and dropped your forehead onto his pillow when his finger moved around to rub your clit. It was wet with his own saliva, which made your thighs shake. You could hear the screech of a microphone from the pub downstairs, and you thought how Michael would usually be performing right around now. Instead, he fucked into you while you lay in his bed, whimpering and your body begging for him to continue. You both were a mix of heavy breaths, his mouth blowing hot air onto your naked spine. He went to whisper something, but it caught in his throat as he felt you clench around him, and you were trembling by then, too.

“Oh, baby,” he maundered into your hair. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“M-me too.” You ran your hand along Michael’s arm, which still stayed wrapped around you. His fingers were drawing lazier around your clit, but you were still on the edge. Glancing down, you kept your palm resting above his tattoos. You took in a broken gasp, shutting your eyes. “M-m-michael, I-I…” You cut off with a loud moan, voice cracking and fists tightening into your palms.

He followed after, gripping bruises into your waist and staying inside you for a moment after his climax. You could feel him whole, and had an aching emptiness when he pulled out, landing next to you on the mattress. You lay on your front, too tired to move. His warm fingers pushed your hair behind your ear.

“So, pretty girl,” he whispered, “I hope this isn’t the last time I see you.”

Always // Jung Jaehyun

-

the prompt: can you do jaehyun song based scenario with Disenchanted-MCR??

words: 3330

category: song rec + angst

warnings: attempted suicide + mentions of depression

author note: i couldn’t figure out this song so i looked up a bunch of theories and one was about depression, so i took that and ran with it. I’m a bit hesitant about this, since it’s a very serious topic and i don’t known if i did it justice. feel free to give me any constructive criticism if i didn’t portray depression correctly. please enjoy this anyway.

- destinee

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

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Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x reader (eventually)

Warnings: Language, violence, explosions, mean aliens, pie

A/N: I have no idea what come over me, or why I’m suddenly delving into the Marvel franchise headfirst. All I know, is this is pretty long, but then again, I did write it. I have no self-control, I swear. Enjoy!


Bucky.

“Barnes!” you gasp, lying flat on the ground where you’ve been thrown by the explosion of a nearby car. You’re really getting sick of being knocked around all the time, tossed through the air by some kind of freaking alien or asshole in a suit.

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Crazy For You

YoungK and word prompt - train :) (gosh I went for someone else this time, be proud of me Mami :D) As always, I love your fics <3

Note: Yas finally a Day6 prompt! ilysm ♥ I am proud of you even if you request changki or other things! you’re amazing @laviette plz excuse this terrible fic I tried to make it great like you.. i couldn’t

Disclaimer: I don’t own gifs/images used.

Originally posted by iday6

If anyone was to ask someone at Younghyun’s local high school what he’s like, they’d tell you that he’s handsome, charismatic, all tied in a bad-boy image. He plays in a rock band with his friends, and doesn’t give anyone the time of day with romantic attention. It’s a cliche ideology, really; the heart breaker. But everyone has a reason for the way in which they act. In Younghyun’s case, it’s all because of you.

You’re a contradiction to his image, but creative all the same. You carry around art books instead of a bass, and paint brushes instead of a mic. He’s enthralled by you, the way your fingers work their way around the artistic equipment, and how they create such beauty on a canvas.

He’s spoken to you a lot, but rarely on the grounds of the school. The two of you live near each other which is why you find yourselves taking the same train home. That was when he realised that he had finally fallen for someone.

At first he thought he’d gone crazy. It was late, around 11pm as the two of you waited for the train to roll at the station. He watched you; you were wearing a black and white striped top beneath a black pinafore dress. You had a rucksack on your back, and a large folder in your arms, carrying your creations of the day. He thought it was the tiredness that washed is brain, but each day that past he found himself feeling a little stronger towards you.

It was the virus in his heart that caused him to turn this way; turning away other girl’s affection. They weren’t the same as you, in comparison, they were plain and easy. He endured a lot, his only wish to keep you safe and happy. That was why he took a punch to the eye while beating up the old drunken creep that tried to touch you up on the station one late friday night, the reason he gave you his jacket when you shivered even though his whole entire body felt like ice.

A shriek snapped him from his thoughts. He shook his head, “crazy” he mumbled to himself as he ruffled his fingers through his hair.

“Whose crazy? You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you?”

Younghyun looked beside him, almost jumping out of his skin from shock. “Jeez {y/n}, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

You giggled, “It’s not my fault you were away with the fairies.”

Younghyun playfully rolled his eyes, hoisting his bass that was wrapped in it’s case further up his shoulder, only now realising it had been on the verge of falling. He looked at you, and he wasn’t sure how blood wasn’t rushing to his cheeks.

“Well anyway, to answer your question I wasn’t talking about you… well I was… but not- what am I talking about right now? I’m so tired.” He covered his face. He’d jinxed it, the blood was now rushing to his face.

“You’re not wrong. You’re crazy” He watched you smile through the gaps of his fingers.

“Crazyfurmou.” he mumbled.

“Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”

He loved his hands away from his face, “Crazy for… you. I’m crazy for you.”

Neither of you noticed the people moving around you, or the train that waited at the platform until the shrill of the whistle broke the moment like shattering glass. Younghyun felt stupid, and felt as though he probably looked even more stupid because of his now embarrassed emotions.

You stretched out your hands, he looked down, remembering how captivating they were and watched as they intertwined with his own. He was sure that his heart was going to jump out of his chest. No one had ever made him feel this way before; it scared him to think how much he’d be affected by your first kiss when he felt so exhilarated by a simple hand touch, never mind anything else.

You pulled him onto the train, taking a seat on the mostly deserted cart. You sat closer to the window, gripping his hand. You looked back at him, seemingly jumpy even though you’d been the one to initiate the touch.

“What? Did you not mean-” Your face flushed, your hand loosening on his, but he gripped tighter.

“This is what I meant, {y/n}”

Your face relaxed, your hand turning more comfortable in his again. You opened your mouth to speak, and Younghyun was expecting you to question him about this, you didn’t. You closed your mouth again, settling for a comfortable silence and Younghyun decided that he wanted to stay on this train for the rest of his life.

Take a Chance (Part 1)

Originally posted by fadetopale

pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers
characters: Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Amora (Enchantress), Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
word count: 1,860
warnings: a lot of mentions of alcohol a cussing, like a lot, implied one night stand
a/n: based on a Spanish movie ¿Qué Culpa Tiene el Niño? that my mom and i love! this will have some similarilies to the movie but different circumstance
summary: AU! After a one night stand at a friend’s wedding, you gain something that could possibly change your life and views on life for the better or worse.

Prologue||All Parts||Next

Your name: submit What is this?

The sound of a door opening and closing drags you out of your deep slumber. You groan, feeling something grainy scratch your skin every time you move around your bed. Wait… your bedding isn’t this soft and light! And it definitely doesn’t scratch you so much. Oh. Right. Hotel. Hamptons. Wedding. Wait, hold on, okay, you’re in a hotel room but why are you naked? You never sleep naked! Oh my god, whose hotel room are you in?! What the hell happened last night?!

“Fuckkkkkkk.”

Rolling out of the bed, you feel an uncomfortable soreness between your legs, almost falling off the bed because of the sudden feeling. You try standing up, wrapping yourself up in the comfortable duvet. With steady steps, you look around the room, seeing your dress from last night on an armchair and one of your shoes near the door leading to the living room.

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anonymous asked:

I'm not exactly sure if this is the right place to make a request and I also don't know if you even take requests, but I'm doing this anyway. I really really love your jikook writing, no matter what it is, and I was wondering if you could write something for the maknae line with jimin being the submissive one if you know what I mean, or jikook?? Whichever floats your boat. Please and thank you. ^^

fansigns are jimin’s least favorite events. as the famous singing duo VKook’s manager, he’s obligated to coordinate these events but he still hates them. 

“thanks baby~” he hears Taehyung coo at a fan crouching in front of him and he scrunches his face up. 

“disgusting,” he mutters to himself. “stupid, greasy, man-child.” 

“jiminnie, baby, open up for us hmm?” taehyung slides a hand down jimin’s stomach, eyes glinting wickedly. jimin shudders at the sensation, heat pooling in his abdomen. 

jimin shakes his head, gritting his teeth. 

“jungkookie!” he hears another scandalous gasp. he glances over to see jungkook grinning up at a fan who’s covering her mouth with her hands, face flushed. “you’re so perverted! don’t do that to noona’s heart!” 

“ah, but noona’s too cute not to tease~” 

disgusting. he hates both of them. gross. 

stop that!” jimin slaps away the hands trying to grope at his butt. “pervert!” 

“ah hyung is too cute, i can’t help it!” jungkook grins, pushing into jimin’s space until jimin’s trapped between him and the wall. 

oh yes, jimin hates fansigns. 

“no reason for you to be jealous,” he mutters to himself. “it’s only right that they be nice to their fans. you’d chew them out if they were mean.”

just…did they have to be so goddamn flirty?

of course they do, jimin reasons again. that’s what draws in the fans. both of them can act cute but what really gets the fans screaming is when taehyung licks his lips or when jungkook delivers a slick body roll. 

sighing, he pushes his clipboard at another staff member. “need some air. cover me for a bit?” she nods and waves him off and jimin steps outside the venue, sitting down and leaning against the wall. 

“don’t be dumb, park jimin,” he tells himself. “no need to get jealous over every little thing.” or so he tells himself. unfortunately, jimin’s always been an insecure person. he leans his head back, closing his eyes. 

“where’d jiminnie go?” taehyung asks jungkook. jungkook doesn’t even answer him, eyes already searching the venue. taehyung almost laughs. they’re both so whipped and needy for their tiny boyfriend slash manager. 

“taehyungie-oppa! look here!” taehyung flashes them a short smile but then he’s looking around again, searching for a head of orange hair. 

when he doesn’t find him, taehyung lifts the mic to his mouth. “sorry! we’re gonna hold a short intermission, kay? don’t want you to get tired of us too soon!” 

“never~” they chorus and taehyung grins, a tad guiltily because really, they’re not allowed to call an intermission whenever they want but jimin isn’t here to help them with their bad life choices so really, they’re justified in going to look for him. jungkook’s already out of his seat, looking for a staff noona to ask after jimin. 

“she said he’s outside in the back,” jungkook tells him when he comes back and they both head out to the back. they open the door cautiously, wondering if there might be fangirls who didn’t get in to the fansign waiting in the back. there aren’t any. instead, there’s a familiar head of orange hair, eyes closed, looking ethereal in the afternoon sun. 

taehyung crouches down in front of the figure. 

“there you are.” jimin’s eyes fly open, eyes widening when he sees taehyung. 

“taehyung!” taehyung grins at him, tongue between his teeth. 

“we were wondering where you’d gone,” jungkook says from where he’s leaning against the wall. he crouches down next to jimin as well. “we missed you.” he presses a short, chaste kiss to jimin’s lips. 

“i was only out for a few minutes,” jimin mumbles, staring at the ground. his pink cheeks are so cute, taehyung thinks. jimin glances up at them, eyes large and forlorn. “you really missed me?”

taehyung blinks, wondering where this is coming from, but then remembers that jimin is usually always moody during fansigns. “of course we did! we always miss you when you’re not in our arms.”

jimin flushes harder. “…ah…” he looks down at his lap, tiny fingers fidgeting. “is…the fansign over?”

“no,” jungkook says. “taehyung-hyung called an intermission because we were wondering where you were.”

jimin wrinkles his nose. “damn.” taehyung feels the same. all he wants to do is drag jimin back to their van and into their dorm so he can kiss and cuddle jimin for hours. maybe do naughty stuff. jimin’s lips are full and pouty. taehyung can just imagine them wrapped around his co – yeah. definitely naughty stuff first and then cuddles. “you should probably head back in. the fans are going to get restless without you there.”

taehyung whines, falling forward and burying his nose in jimin’s neck. the skin is so soft. taehyung wants to suck marks into it. “dun wanna!” 

without looking, he can see jungkook and jimin roll their eyes at each other over him. they always do. 

“go in,” jimin says. “let’s just get this done and over with.” he pats at taehyung’s back. “and then we can head home.”

“and do naughty stuff?” 

jimin smacks him lightly, face red. 

“i want to do very bad things to you, jiminnie,” taehyung says honestly. “very bad things.” 

“get inside,” jimin huffs, face red, but he doesn’t say no and taehyung stands up giddily. 

“you’re not coming in with us?” jungkook asks and jimin looks away. 

“not just yet. you go first.” taehyung pouts. he doesn’t want to go in without jimin. he’ll miss him more if he can’t see him. but there’s nothing he can do about it so he heads back in with jungkook. 

jungkook’s tired of smiling and talking. he likes his fans, sure, but only in concept. prolonged exposure makes him long for jimin and soft pretty giggles and eye smiles. 

a flash of orange catches his eye and his lips lift in a smile when he sees it’s jimin, grabbing his clipboard back with a small smile from the staff noona. 

(later, pics are going to come out of ‘jungkookie-oppa’s lovey dovey smile’ and jungkook will scowl and taehyung will laugh because that smile has nothing to do with fans and everything to do with their adorable manager. )

jungkook’s mouth  moves to autopilot as he keeps his eyes fixed on jimin while simultaneously trying to hold a conversation with a fan. jimin’s moving around, talking for a few minutes each to various staff members before he’s suddenly stopped by a man in a suit.

jungkook frowns and the girl in front of him ducks guiltily. “sorry! was that too personal a question?”

“huh?”

“ah…i…what’s your favorite color?”

“oh…no…i just wasn’t paying attention. it’s –” jimin’s laughing at whatever the man’s saying. jungkook feels something irrationally angry inside him. it suddenly occurs to him that he hasn’t answered her. “ – orange.”

“i thought you would say red or black,” she says. “i don’t see you wear orange much.”

“yeah…i guess…today i’m just feeling orange.” honestly, just get a move on. she’s distracting him. what had the man said that had gotten jimin laughing? jimin had been moody most of the day but he usually was during fansigns and he and taehyung could never snap him out of it.

jimin’s eyes are crinkled as he smiles, sweater sleeves falling over his hand as he covers his mouth with his hand. he’s adorable. jungkook wants to cuddle him, maybe rip the sweater off so he can see the rest of jimin’s soft skin.

“oppa?”

jungkook jolts. “oh sorry. it’s uh…been a long day.”

after she passes, jungkook purposely knocks taehyung’s water bottle onto the ground. “oops.”

taehyung bends down to pick it up and jungkook bends down as well so they’re both hidden by the table. “who is that with jimin?”

taehyung blinks and raises his head slightly. his brows furrow when he sees. “dunno. why is jimin laughing?”

“dunno.”

they both sit back up. any more time and it would look suspicious.

over the sound of fans screaming, he can faintly make out the sound of jimin’s bubbly, bright laughter.

((”how did you break your autograph pen?”

“i guess i…held it too hard.”))

in the van back to the dorm, jimin is once again sandwiched between taehyung and jungkook like usual. it’s surrounded by his two boyfriends that jimin always feels safest and most loved.

“so who was that?”

jimin blinks. “who was who?”

“the guy you were talking to.”

jimin wrinkles his nose. “i talked to a lot of people today, jungkookie. you’ll have to be more specific.” jungkook frowns, jaw visibly tense, and jimin blinks, reaching up and touching jungkook’s cheek carefully. “is something wrong?”

jungkook ignores the question but doesn’t bat jimin’s hand away. “who was that guy that made you laugh?”

jimin hopes jungkook can see how confused his expression is because he has no idea what jungkook’s talking about.

“the guy in the suit, jimin.”

“oh! the…sponsor?”

“sponsor?”

“mm,” jimin says. “the guy in the suit? he said he wanted to sign a contract with us – you, i guess, for an advertising campaign.”

“but he made you laugh.”

“hm? oh…maybe? i don’t quite remember…oh yeah, i think he said i looked too young and cute to be a manager already or something like that.”

“we compliment you all the time!” taehyung pouts.

“it wasn’t really a compliment he was just joking!” jimin blinks. “are you guys jealous or something?”

“yeah.”

jimin’s eyes widen, heat crawling up his cheeks. “what could you possibly be jealous of? he was a sponsor! he’s like middle aged and just a company spokesperson! you guys are – “ he gestures at the both of them. “ – you!”

“he made you laugh. we can never make you laugh on fansign days.”

“ah…that…um…” jimin looks down at his lap. his short, stubby fingers pull at each other. he wishes the conversation could just end now but even with his head bowed he can feel the weight of jungkook and taehyung’s eyes. “it’s because…you guys…um…”

“what? what do we do?”

“…you...flirt with the fans…”

“huh? what was that?”

“you flirt with the fans! and i get jealous, okay? that’s why i hate fansigns.”

there’s a pause and jimin buries his head between his knees, already embarrassed.

“aww jiminnie!”

jimin grunts as he manhandled onto a lap. he immediately buries his face in the nearest neck so he doesn’t have to see. it smells like jungkook. he can feel lips pressing into his neck and lips pressing into his hair. 

“you know that almost all of those lines are scripted, right?”

“yeah, jungkook couldn’t flirt with girls to save himself.” there’s a pause that jimin thinks is jungkook glaring at taehyung but he doesn’t deny it. 

“there’s nothing you have to be jealous of,” jungkook murmurs into jimin’s hair. “nothing at all.” 

Minific as part of this AU! I went with Fiyero in Wicked for Jack’s role because I saw that in a couple of the suggestions and the costume worked for this :)


Katherine was doing the rounds checking dressing rooms to make everyone was on their way down to the stage and not was having last minute mic malfunctions or costume issues. She’d almost reached the last room when she poked her head around Jack’s door and found him sat at his mirror, staring down at his hand.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned in equal parts for the show and for her friend. After the show based on Davey’s book had closed – ending a respectable run of three years – they’d found themselves in the same jobs at a new show. Jack was still the male lead, she was still stage manager. “Don’t tell me I need to call in an understudy, you’re on in five minutes.”

Shaking himself out of his trance, Jack looked up and forced a smile.

“No, it’s fine. It’s nothing,” he promised.

It was only when he shifted slightly that she could see what he was fiddling with: his wedding ring. This was the first show back after the holiday he’d taken to get married so it had never had the chance to be a problem before. Katherine couldn’t help but smile; it had been a beautiful wedding and by all accounts Jack and Davey had loved their honeymoon. So why was Jack looking at his ring with such distress?
“Jack?” she prompted, sitting down in the spare chair. Whatever this was, they didn’t have long. If Jack was second guessing his marriage then five minutes definitely wasn’t enough time to cover it.

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okay okay but hear me out

3 words: space squad sleepover

  • the team when bored, sneaks into allura’s room
  • its not like they have anything else to do and it helps bonding™
  • and of course a sleepover wouldn’t be complete without c o s t u m e s
    • lance is wearing one of allura’s dresses, with powder all over his hair to make it white and of course using her earrings and her fucking tiara because why the fuck not. lance [dramatically swaying the skirt of the dress]: kneel before me, peasants. pidge: holy quiznack, you could totally pass as allura’s brother. hunk: wow, lance, you actually look like royalty. keith: he has always been, you know, a real pain in the ass. lance: off with the mullet!
    • keith is wearing tied up bed sheets as a toga for armor, with smudged blotches of purple paint all over his face and bright yellow aviators they found between their earth belongings, and for the final touch one of allura’s bras over his head to simulate galra ears. lance [cupping the bra with his hands]: so close but so far away. pidge [frowning]: you have issues. lance [smirking]: hey, keith, think fast! keith [ducking]: lance! what the hell? lance, pidge and hunk [covering their mouths]:keith [blushing]: its in my head, isnt it?
    • hunk is wearing his jacket backwards as armor, with pillows under his shirt to simulate muscles, and one of keith’s gloves on his right hand, powder on his hair like lance and a streak of pink lipstick across his nose. 
    • pidge is wearing one of coran’s shirts, sadly his pants are too long for her, with her hair gelled back and her bangs taped to her face as moustache. pidge [scratching her face]: ugh, how do you guys deal with these? lance [puffing out his chest]: it comes with being a man pidge [squinting]: are you even able of growing facial hair? lance, i have more hair on my legs than you
  • then comes the s k e t c h e s
      • hunk [pointing at keith gasping]: zarkon!
        keith [jumping on top of the bed]: surrender and give voltron back to me!
        pidge [shaking lance by the shoulders]: princess! we are under attack!
        lance [running to hunk’s arms]: oh no! shiro, what do we do?
        hunk [picking lance in his arms]: don’t be afraid, princess, my strength and good looks will protect us!
        lance [swooning]: my hero!
        hunk [dropping lance to the floor]: paladins, form voltron!
        hunk [spinning around dramatically]:
        hunk [sighing]: keith, lance, stop making out!
        keith and lance [blushing]: hey!
        hunk [rolling his eyes]: hunk, stop throwing up for god’s sake and-where even is pidge? i swear she’s getting smaller by day
        pidge [laughing her ass off on the floor]: oh my god, stop!
        hunk [shaking his head]: damn these stupid teenagers, i have to do it everything by myself
        keith [jumping off the bed covering his face]: you know what? i give up. keep fucking voltron, i’m way too old for this shit
    • they deserve oscars really
  • then they play b o a r d  g a m e s they got from the space mall
    • but they are like you know, alien
    • so no one really understands shit
    • except pidge of course
    • so after the 3rd or 4th round, lance starts getting suspicious
      • lance [whinning]: how come you keep winning?
        pidge [shrugging]: i don’t make the rules
        pidge [whispering under her breath]: i just break them
        lance [looking at pidge]: what was that?
        pidge [smirking]: you mean the sound of your sorry sore loser ass? yeah, i heard that too
        hunk and keith [snorting]:
  • then they do k a r a o k e bc no one beats lance at that shit
    • lance is actually amazing. dropping the imaginary mic when he’s done and leaving everyone fucking speechless 
    • keith won’t sing to save his life and no amount of puppy eyes will make him change his mind
    • pidge is a little shy at first but once she gets into it she’s really good
    • hunk is more a musician than a singer. playing a alien-like-ukulele they found at the space mall as well but he got the hang of it in matter of seconds, blushing when they all ask him to play another
  • since they can’t make p r a n k  c a l l s or watch m o v i e s they decide on s t a r g a z i n g bc they all nerds
    • of course that means outside the ship bc that would be average
    • on their lions of course bc safety first
    • after flotating around for a bit they start to talk and everything gets real and emo v fast
      • lance is still homesick.jpg
      • keith is still dealing with being part galra
      • pidge is still wondering where matt and her dad are
      • hunk is still trying to cope with how he went from the garrison to be the universe’s last hope
    • but they all have each other’s back so everything is okay

bonus:

coran: what is it, princess?
allura: is it me or is it quiet tonight?
shiro: almost… too quiet

It’s Always Better When We’re Together

Originally posted by sevastisaurus

This one DEFINITELY got away from me.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k (Lyrics included)

Warnings: Pure fucking fluff

Jensen joined Louden Swain on stage and the crowd went crazy. You laughed and clapped along with the crowd. You couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth and scream out along with the rest of the screaming fans. 

“Ow! OW! Jensen!” you yelled, giggling a little when he heard you and glanced sideways off the stage in your direction, a mischievous grin creeping onto his lips. 

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Tomato Soup and Lemon Zest: Catiac Agreste

Rating: Teen

Chapters: 2/3

ao3  fanfic   1 - 2 - 3

Notes: This is not how I thought this chapter would go, and I intended this to be two chapters wtf

P.S. Please let me know what you think! (Also, if anything is offensive, tell me, I like to consider people’s feelings) 

based on this post

Comment if you want me to tag you in the next update, otherwise check the tag #adrinathdrawingfic

@samantha-girlscout @artgirllullaby @miraculouslyme @breeeliss @itsmegan347official @deadstache @tallsuperstar @b0n3-crush3r

Also, @yourfavouritekindoftrash made a fic based on the same post, check it out under the tag #adrinathdrawingfic


“Oh my God,” Adrien fell back on his bed, hugging his pillow to his face to suppress the ever waiting wail he’d let out.

Plagg blinked at him slowly while chewing on a slice of camembert. He could almost see the red in Adrien’s face burning through the cushion.

“Plagg…”

“Yeah?”

“Plaaaaaggg…”

“Um, yeah?”

“PLAA-”

“YEAH. OK. Adrien, I’m listening… just say whatever it is before I stop caring.”

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I Forgive You (Mino x Reader)

Requested by anon. This is my first Song Minho scenario so I am superd hyped for that. Enjoy!

Originally posted by kyuunqsoo

When you got in YG as a trainee you were a hopefull 18 year old, full of life and confidence. You were very sure about your success, thank god for your mom who taught you to always be strong and work for everything. For two entire years you practised until you bleed, you sang your heart out, you were always the fastest to catch up to a choreography, the first one to walk in the studio and the last one to leave. 

The coaches noticed that and they decided to give you a personal mentor, a person that would guide you and someone that had already got a taste in fame, you would be in safe hands. Well, that’s what you thoughtWhen you got informed that your mentor was the famous Mino you almost jumped through the roof, he was a star and he knew the whole thing like the back of his hand.

 You thought he was going to be nice, like an older brother of some sort, a person that would be with you and help you stand on your own two feet, Instead of him making you stand on your feet, he was pretty much kicking you down. He always had something negative to say, “you were off key”, “you missed a step, "you need to work on your pronuctuation”, , “the choreography is messed up”, “you’re not trying hard enough”, “you need to focus”. 

He knew he was crossing the line, but he honestly did not want to do this. Taking care of a trainee was not on his plans, you knew nothing about the struggles, he knew that ambitious smile and the eyes full of hope all too well, you would be crushed so he might as well do you a favour and do it now. 

He didn’t pay attention to you, until one time where he was about to leave and saw you dancing and singing again and again. He noticed how gracefully you moved your arms, how soft your voice could be but also how strong and booming you can make it, how you focused on the sweaty figure in the mirror, your eyebrows furrowing. He realised how much you wanted this, he also realised how beautiful you looked, your strong figure full of muscles, some people would say it was too much but you looked beautiful, every single muscle on your body was putting in the work, that showed determination. He liked that

——————————–

He started seeing the difference. You didn’t smile anymore when you walked in, you didn’t ask questions, you didn’t try to reason with him, you became a little robot that listened to his words and did whatever it was told. He broke you and he should be happy, that’s what he wanted to do, make you see that it’s not easy and the world doesn’t taste like peaches.

 If that was true then why did he feel so bad? He missed the annoying questions, that stupid bright smile, now you were just blank.“Alright, that’s as much as you can do.  I got to go, close the lights"He said and picked his back. he wasn’t going to leave, he just wanted to see what you were going to do. Like always, you turned the music up and went through the choreography again, but he saw something different. 

You were so passionate before, now you focused on technique -like he told you to- you could feel the emotions while you sang, now it was just melodic and on key -like he told you to-. You did everything exactly like he told you to, but he didn’t like it. You also didn’t like it either. You were used to putting countless hours in and spending your whole day here, but now it was tiring. You kept going until you missed a step and fell down, you threw away the mic making a loud crushing sound and covered your face with your hands. You didn’t want this, you were tired, you were not good enough for this. All those thoughts made your head spin, as the tears runned donw your cheeks getting mixed with sweat.

He thought you just got tired, but then he saw your body jolt in sobs. You were crying, he had never seen you cry before, he had never even seen you sad, hearing your sobs was painfull to him. He couldn’t believe in his eyes, the strong happy girl was crying. Something took over him and made him walk in"What are you doing?

"You just turned your back to him, you didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to dig a hole and cry, one of the reasons was him. He left his bag to the side and approached you, crouching down to your level and reaching out to touch your shoulder.

”(y/n) I asked you-“

"Leave me alone”

You managed to say. He was suprised by the amount of sassiness and the amount of pain he heard in your voice.

“Why are you crying?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made my life a living hell, all I wanted was to learn from you, I looked up at you. Now you made me like you, perfect at techinque but empty inside. Are you happy?”

“No”

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I thought you were a nice person, that you were willing to help me, but you becmae worst than any teacher. I hate you minho. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No”

He replied honestly. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, you were too tired to care so you just leaned in and cried on his chest, while he rubbed your back soothingly.

“I am sorry (y/n)”

“No, you were right. I am not meant for this life, look at me crying like a weak person”

“Don’t ever say that. You are one of the most passionate people I know, you are full of positivity, too much positivity that sometimes it even became annoying. I miss that annoying ambitious girl”

You let out a giggle at his words. He brought his hands to your cheeks and wiped away the tears slowly, althought they were replaced with new ones pretty quickly, so he wiped them away again.

“Little girl. Innocent little girl, why did you listen to me?”

He asked you. You looked at him confused, he just smiled and leaned in to give you a kiss on your sweaty forehead. It was the first time he showed affection to you.

“You were perfect, ready to take on the world. I just had to ruin it, I am sorry (y/n)”

He whispered against your skin. You pulled back and looked up at him, biting your lower lip.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was the stupid one. I thought that you were stupid for being so happy and hopefull, turns out I was the stupid one. I lost the spark you have, you still have that fire that every singer wants to have, the passion is pumping through your veins, your heart beats in the beat of your song. You are a singer, an idol, you are perfect”

He wanted to kiss you so bad. it was extremely hard for him to not do it, he couldn’t do that to you. You were just starting your career, he had already debuted. You were ready to go out there and make yourself known, he couldn’t hold you back. The public had already their eyes on him, if a scandal broke out it would crush both of you.

“Thank you Minho… I forgive you”

“I am supposed to say thank you. For reminding me what it’s like to be passionate and restless, you breathe and inhale music, don’t ever lose that. Promise me that”

“I promise”

“Good. Now wipe your tears and change your clothes and lets’ go, I’m buying you dinner”

FIC: space, nightmares

kiribaku week 2017: day 2

The din of the room doesn’t prevent them from having their own conversation. So no one else notices how Bakugou’s brow knots painfully. He glances at him like wild, cornered prey, and then Kirishima’s frown really deepens after that.

“What’s up, Bakugou?”

AO3

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All Mine

New Dean Ambrose reader insert request from @kristiej! Basically this is back in the Shield days and reader is a Hound of Justice :) Dean has it bad for reader…like love bad… I’ll let you draw your own conclusions. I’ll be throwing this back to when our boys had the tag and us titles but we gotta start this right so I got two words for ya…


Let’s go~!

Originally posted by wwemariibrasil


Your name: submit What is this?




“SIERRA. HOTEL. INDIA. ECHO. LIMA. DELTA. THE SHIELD.”  The lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on the crowd as your group emerged, donned in your black gear to the displeasure of some fans. You loved the hate though. 


You couldn’t get enough of it.


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The Exception

Inspired by today’s Open Mic Night. Let me know if I should continue it.

The café had its perks and its downside. But today it felt more like a million downsides for Nico. He was tired and homesick and he had a lot of homework he hadn’t gotten to because of the time his shift took up.

“Hey, ready for Open Mic?” his coworker asked. Nico shrugged and yawned as he leaned against the counter.

“I’m ready to go home. And not my dorm, I mean home.” He huffed and stood upright as a group came in. A few ordered drinks, the others sat down and waited for Open Mic Night to start.

As the time inched closer to seven, the café filled up more than it did on even the busiest weekdays. People lounged about the tables, on the couch, squeezing together to fit their friends, people began sitting on the floor, standing around the edges, anything to get a glimpse of what talent people would bring that night.

The lights were dimmed, the low stage lights were brought up, and his coworker who was also the sponsor went up to the stage. “Hey everyone! Okay, so this is a great turnout! We still have a few slots available if you want to sign up, a song, poem, a monologue, whatever you want, this is your chance to shine!” she said excitedly. Nico rolled his eyes.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if the enthusiasm was real or not. Surely no one could be that happy all the time, right? Regardless, more people crowded together until the first act was up.

Nico laughed to himself as a girl did a mellow cover of Hotline Bling, a song Nico preferred to pretend didn’t exist. She received applause and hoots. Then a few original songs by aspiring singers. In between acts, Nico would get someone at the counter whispering an order before the next act started.

Granted some of the performers were pretty good. When they messed up, they laughed at themselves and kept going, encouraged by the crowd. Nico didn’t think he could ever do that. So he had to give credit where it was due.

An hour in, after an intense slam poem that left Nico laughing and applauding, he leaned against the back counter and scrolled through his phone.

He heard the sweet strums of a guitar and nodded his head to the beat.

Then the singing began.

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BTS reaction to things going wrong on your date

Ah, i get very easily embarrassed so this would hunt me for the rest of my life tbh (You know when you remember something stupid that you’ve done 10 years ago and ugh cringe, my entire existence). I hope this is what you wanted.

Also, i wrote them too long and i had to cut a lot AND THEY ARE STILL SO LONG I TRIED. THIS IS MY CURSE

-Admin RaspberryJam

Jin:

You would be at a rather fancy restaurant, already feeling nervous for being in such a place. You tried to relax and enjoy your time with Jin, focusing on his stories from work. At some point of the night, you laughed at one of his stories about the maknae line, forgetting that you have a fork full of spaghetti in your hand. The food fell from the fork directly on your lap, staining the material of your skirt. You immediately blushed and grabbed a napkin to remove the food and trying to clean the stain while mumbling “Sorry” to Jin. As soon as the food slipped on your skirt, Jin stood up and tried to help you. He grabbed your hand, telling you that like that you would just make the stain worse. He guided you to the bathroom and told you to wet a towel with warm water and try to make the stain disappear. After cleaning the skirt as much as you could, Jin will give you his coat, that reached over your skirt, hiding the stain and he tried to distract you for the rest of your date. 

 “ We need to go shopping for a new skirt, [Y/N]!” 

 Suga:

You and Yoongi decided to just chill in his room, since for once all the boys were gone from the apartment. Your head was resting on his lap as you listened to a new song he recorded. You felt a weird but familiar sensation down you-know-were and you knew that it was that time of the month. You stood up, walking to your purse to find a pad. As you finally found one in the mess that was in your purse, your waist was surrounded by two arms, making you jump and dropping the pad from your hands on the floor. Yoongi bent down to pick the not so familiar looking object. Realisation hit him and he quickly moved away from the object, you quickly went to pick the pad from the floor, cheeks red from the embarrassment. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck and looked away and you just went to the bathroom, cursing your ovaries and your entire existence. As you got out of the bathroom, you found Yoongi sitting on the sofa and a blush was clear on his face. He started talking about how this is a normal thing in a girl’s life and how he shouldn’t have reacted that way and that he is sorry. He hugged you, wrapping a blanket around you two and cuddling you. 

“ How about i bring you some sweets? Do you want some hot chocolate? Does your back hurts?”

J-Hope:

You and Hoseok decided to go to karaoke, since you never went before and he wanted to show you how much fun it would be. You rented a room and ordered some drinks. You both scanned the song list and soon picked a song each for you to perform. You went back and front, and on your 4th song, you already felt more comfortable and relaxed, not worrying about the fact that you couldn’t sing to save your life. For your 4th song, you decided to pick a song that you completely loved and adored. As soon as the song started, you forgot about your boyfriend being in the room and lost control. You sang your lungs out, dancing along, even trying to sing the instrumental parts. As you did a twirl as part of the “choreography”, your eyes landed on your boyfriend, his mouth opened and eyes wide. You quickly covered your mouth in embarrassment and put down the microphone. Hoseok stood up from his spot, taking the mic and giving it back to you, insisting that it was amazing. He wanted you to sing more and he soon joined you, doing his own exaggerated dances.

“ Jagi, look, i’m gonna be your background dancer, so at the chorus, we should dance like this.”

Rap Monster:

You were out shopping with your boyfriend, Namjoon, looking for some new clothes. He liked picking clothes for you, so you decided to let him tag along. As you entered a random shop and picked a few skirts you liked, you abandoned your boyfriend to go and try the clothes. As you picked your favourites, you heard a rather loud noise coming from the clothes area and you went to check where the noise was coming from. Of course the scene contained an embarrassed Namjoon and a pile of mannequins fallen on the floor. You let out a sigh, knowing exactly what happened without needing an explanation. You helped your boyfriend rearrange the mannequins and bowed to the annoyed ladies that worked there. You both left the shop as soon as possible, forgetting about buying the skirt you liked. Namjoon was murmuring apologies and promises that he will buy you everything you liked next time. You just kissed his cheek and said that from now on, you should go to dates somewhere where he couldn’t destroy anything.

“ I swear jagi, they just fell like that, i didn’t even touch them. It was the wind probably.”

Jimin:

You looked down to check your dress again, nervous about your date with Jimin. You dressed quite nicely today, wearing heels for the first time just to look good for your boyfriend. You spotted him running towards you, quickly apologizing for his schedule and you both started walking around the river, enjoying the night together. You let yourself be distracted by the cute boy next to you, laughing at his jokes and teasing him for his adorable laugh. But because you were not paying attention, one of your heels got stuck in a crack. You felt yourself falling, but luckily your boyfriend caught you. But you realized your heel was not as lucky as you, as you picked the broken heel in your hand. You could not walk any more and you almost had tears in your eyes from the embarrassment. But your boyfriend crouched down as he offered you a piggy ride, reassuring you that he could carry you home. You reluctantly put your arms around his neck as he carried you home, sometimes pretending to drop you just to laugh at your reaction.

“ I’m strong enough to carry you, just look at my muscles.”

V:

 You laughed at your boyfriend running after the ducks and pouting when the ducks jumped in the pond, leaving him with no “playmates”. Taehyung returned to you, grabbing your hand and trying to kiss you. But being the shy person you were, you tried to duck (no pun intended) away from him. This of course made him more eager to kiss you, teasing you. You giggled and wiggled in his arms, trying to escape and threatening him. His playful grin mesmerised you, capturing your attention and forgetting your plan for a moment. But as his lips almost touched yours, you snapped out of it and with a shriek, you tried to back away from him. The action caught him by surprised and you both lost balance, falling down. You both landed in the lake with a scream, not believing your luck. You quickly swam and got out of the water, both of you soaking wet with a shocked expression on your face. You were now in an even more embarrassing situation than kissing in public and you could tell that your cheeks were red as you looked at your boyfriend laughing. You joined him, realizing what a funny story you’ll have to tell in a few years.

“ Jagi, if you wanted to swim, we could have went to a pool!“

Jungkook:

You mentally cursed yourself for wearing a dress on such a windy day, but now it was too late to go change. You walked hand in hand with your boyfriend, Jungkook, as you looked around the abandoned park. The park was in rather unknown area, so not so many people knew about it. It was the best place for a quiet walk, not having to worry about fans or paparazzi. You spotted an abandoned carousel and you let go of his hand as you ran towards the rusty construction. Jungkook continued to walk slowly, waiting for you to reach the carousel so he could take a photo of you. But the wind betrayed you, blowing strongly and raising your dress for a few seconds. You let out a shriek and immediately grabbed the hem of your dress, stopping it from raising again. But unfortunately for you, Jungkook already saw what was underneath your dress and you could tell it by looking at his red face and ears. Your face was matching his, covered in embarrassment and you didn’t know what to do or say. You both decided to ignore the moment and continued to snap pictures of the park, but both of you kept being a little embarrassed for the rest of the day.

“ Hyung, she had really nice panties, what does it mean? Is she trying to give me a signal?” 

Good Vibrations

Summary: Phil’s band gets a shot at impressing a talent scout, but their drummer drops out just three days before the big gig. Their only shot at a replacement comes in the form of the lead singer’s younger brother, the lead singer’s deaf brother with a fondness for soft pastel colours.

AO3 Link

Genre: Fluff, AU

Warnings: Deafness

POV: Third

Words: 3247

Beta: gatsbys-old-sport

A/n: Wow, it’s been a while since I wrote a deaf!Dan story. Also I love the punk!Phil, pastel!Dan AU and couldn’t resist combining them :D

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