victory chimes

Cherry Bomb (Taeyong x Reader)

Rating: M

(A/N) OOPS! I DID IT AGAIN!!!! I GAVE YOU A SMUT, I WROTE ANOTHER ONE…OH BABY, BABY! Anyway, here’s some yummy retro Taeyong smutty goodness. A little short and sweet, but definitely gets its point across if you know what mean :^)))))))))) Enjoy!

Originally posted by jonqins

It felt weird walking into an arcade, having not visited one since when you were younger. The welcoming sounds of heavily synthesized music, trigger clicks, and the smacking of big plastic buttons brought back a wave of nostalgia and made you smile as you peered over the shoulders of people playing. There were no kids in sight though, just people around your age who laughed and joked, drank, reminiscing in their childhood. You’d been coerced into going to a twenty one and older event at the local vintage arcade that had just opened down the street from your apartment. People were going bananas of the shiny restored arcade machines, vintage interior, and nostalgic music.

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choc0bunnyqueen  asked:

So hard to pick one but...62! KURO IS A SORE LOSER XD

KuroMahi {62: “I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?”}

“Kuro, it’s time to sleep. Come to bed. It’s cold without you.” Mahiru said as he stepped out of the room. It irritated him to no bounds that Kuro was sitting in front of the television with a controller in his hands. Ever since his uncle brought him Mario Kart Wii for his birthday, Kuro had spent more time with it than he had. He had to admit that he was mostly annoyed because the game took so much of Kuro’s attention.

“I’ll be there in a bit. I just need to unlock one more expert staff ghost to get all the achievements.” Kuro didn’t look away from television when he answered him. He felt the couch shift beneath him and he knew that it was Mahiru without seeing him because of his warmth. Mahiru leaned against his arm and tried to take his controller from him. “It’ll only be five more minutes, Mahiru.”

“You said that a fucking hour ago!” He screamed and caused Kuro to steer off the track. He had been trying to beat the staff ghost on the dreaded Rainbow Road for the past hour. Mahiru heaved a sigh next to him and swiped the controller from his hands. Kuro was a little surprised that he didn’t try to drag him back to their room. Instead, he climbed onto his lap and faced the television.

“You just want your stupid achievement, right? Once I win it for you, you’re going to head straight to bed.” Mahiru leaned back against his chest as the game started. He expertly maneuvered through the track and entered short cuts Kuro didn’t know existed. In less than three minutes, a victorious tune chimed and Mahiru threw Kuro a smirk. “One and done. Now, get your ass to bed.”

“How were you able to do that?” Kuro’s jaw was on the floor as he gawked at him. He never expected Mahiru to be so skilled because he rarely played. He wrapped his arms around Mahiru to stop him from moving off his lap. Keeping one arm around him, Kuro reached down and picked up the second controller laying at their feet. He needed to confirm what he just saw. “I’ll go if you beat me.”

“It’s already eleven and I have school tomorrow! Anyways, you’re the gamer so you’ll win.” Mahiru rubbed his temple. Kuro enjoyed video games and he was a talented player so Mahiru didn’t know if he could defeat him. On the other hand, he couldn’t escape Kuro’s arms easily so he was stuck on the couch with him. “Just one round, Kuro. When I win, I don’t want you whining.”

“You’re talking like I’ve already lost.” He rolled his eyes and returned to the main menu. His lap was comfortable so Mahiru didn’t move from his spot. They both choose their karts and set the track to random. Kuro was curious to see how skilled Mahiru was. He was shocked with how neatly Mahiru cleared the track. He never ran into obstacles or veered off the course. In a blink, Mahiru took the top slot and won.

“Well, that was a nice challenge. Now you need to keep your promise and go to sleep.” Mahiru said but Kuro pouted. His expression was almost childish as he countered.

“I wasn’t trying 100% so we need to play again. It won’t be fair if you beat me when I wasn’t being serious.” Kuro pointed out but Mahiru looked exasperated. At first, he was intrigued by his hidden talent but now his pride was at risk. How could he call himself a gamer when someone who rarely played could beat him? “If you win, I’ll go to bed and give you a shoulder massage tomorrow.”

“A massage with no complaints?” Mahiru raised a brow at him. When Kuro nodded, he had to grin. He was more than willing to play another round with him when he was guaranteed a massage from his boyfriend. “You’re on but this is the only rematch you’re getting.”

Kuro tightened his hands around the remote and he was determined to win. The game started and they both sped onto the track. Engrossed in the game, he threw his body to the side as if it would make his kart avoid danger better. Mahiru was on his lap and was taken with him. He was caught between thinking Kuro’s enthusiasm as endearing and tiring.

Still, Mahiru won in the end.

“Again. You can choose our next two date locations if you win.” He groaned when Kuro challenged him again and they played several more rounds. By the end, Kuro owed Mahiru a massage, two dates of his choice, three mystery dates, a song before bed and breakfast in the morning.

“Well, that’s five rounds. I think it’s time to sleep. I’m tired and very happy with my winnings. Remember, I want eggs and bacon for breakfast tomorrow.” Mahiru teased him. He heard Kuro grumble behind him and laughed a little. He snuggled against his chest to console him and coax him into returning to bed with him. He stood to turned off the television and then held out his hand to help Kuro off the couch.

Kuro took his hand and pulled him onto the couch with him. He hugged him and moved them so that Mahiru was laying beneath him. He buried his face against his chest and muttered. “You cheated. You kept distracting me with how cute you are so you need to be punished.”

“I beat you at Mario Kart and now you’re banishing me to the couch for the night?” Mahiru lightly hit him and tried to push him off but Kuro was much heavier than him. He sighed when he realized that fighting him was pointless and stroked his hair. His familiar scent was soothing and Kuro made any place comfortable enough to sleep. He laid against the cushion and closed his eyes.

“You rarely play so how are you so good?” Kuro asked. Mahiru sighed and wondered how long he was going to make him stay up.

“My uncle would buy a lot of those racing games for me when I was a kid. I used to play by myself a lot because Ryusei and Koyuki live too little far for me to visit often, especially when I was a kid. I got pretty good after a while but playing by myself wasn’t exactly fun. Cleaning and cooking is more satisfying than beating a computer because you’re actually being productive.”

Kuro could hear a hint of loneliness in his voice as he explained how he became so skilled. He raised himself onto his elbow and kissed his brow. Even in the dark, he could see Mahiru’s eyes softening. “I think this is the first time I had so much fun playing a video game. You’re more interesting than a computer and you give better prizes when I beat you.”

“You can play with me whenever you like. I know, instead of spring cleaning, we should have gaming night.” Kuro suggested and chuckled when Mahiru shook his head with a tired sigh.

“I won at Mario Kart so you have to go to sleep now.”

“You won a song from me too, didn’t you?” They shifted on the couch until they could both lay on the small space comfortably. Mahiru hummed contently and burrowed against his chest. Gently, Kuro stroked his hair and began to sing. “I’ve been muddling along from day to day, always looking away from regret and pain. But now I’m going to overcome them and reach out my hands to that ray of light before me. You are my light.”

Modified Kuro’s character song. I’m still fangirling at how wonderful Kuro’s voice is. But Mikuni’s has to be my favourite song out of all of them.

[101 Fluffy Prompts]

I'm Sorry I Love You

Originally posted by nam-sexual

     "Feo..“ *means ugly in Spanish*

     "Fe-o..” Simon repeated after you. Your crush best friend were learning Spanish lately, he wanted to try something new on his rap lyric. Since you were born as Korean-Spanish, he didn’t need to think twice to ask you to teach him some Spanish words. Simon asked you the word handsome in Spanish, but you were naturally such a troll just like him. Instead of telling him the right word, you chose to fool him with the other word which has meaning ugly. Luckily because he was too focused on learning, he trusted you without any single doubt.

     "So how do I say I’m handsome in Spanish?“ He asked again after wrote down on his notes.

     "Soy feo.” You replied nonchalantly.

     “Soybean?” he asked.

     What the hell, Simon?

     “Soy feo, dummy. Soybean is an English word!” you slapped his arm because his lame jokes.

     "Ah~“ he nodded and typed something on his phone. In fact, Simon wasn’t completely trust you, he checked the word on google translate to make it sure.

     "I’m ugl- Yah!!! What is this?” He strongly protested when he found out the true meaning and you laughed as if you won a lottery, Simon’s expression was so priceless.

     "Do you want to die?“ he asked in threaten tone with his unique Busan dialect.

     “Nope, I still want to make your life miserable though. Muahahaha~”

     “You seriously want to die—” he playfully choked you while you feeling ticklish on your neck because of his action.

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yetanotherobsessivereader  asked:

Congrats on 1k followers! For the fic prompt, can i submit "belonging". Thanks!

“Belonging” for my 1k prompt event!

An abbreviated list of places that Derek Hale has failed to belong:

  • Beacon Hills High, after Paige’s death.
  • Anywhere in Beacon Hills, after the fire.
  • New York. Ever.
  • The bustling Mexican city where Cora’s new pack lives, no matter how often his sister assures him he could find a place there, given time.
  • Any of the little towns he and Braeden have passed through, or the car they’re driving. Not even on the nights they park far from the open road, lay on the hood counting stars, and he feels almost happy.

When he asks her when the road starts to feel like home, she says that letting go of the idea of “home” is called growing up. Or, it is for people like them. He hums noncommittally, and looks out the window as she sings along to the sad song she’s had on repeat for the last week - I’m a wanderess, I’m a one-night stand, don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man. He wants to say, I’m right here. Only she sings it like not belonging means freedom, calm triumph in her husky voice, and he doesn’t say anything. It’s a kind of triumph Derek doesn’t want for himself, but he understands that she does.

He looks back to her profile, and it hits him hard how beautiful she is; her full lips, the curl of her hair. His chest is suddenly full of love for her, love that stings sharp with a familiar undercurrent of loss. He’s only ever given himself over when it’s safe like this; when he knows it’s over. He still wants to belong somewhere. He wants permanence, he wants a home. He wants belonging.

Not that he believes, exactly, that it’s something he gets to have.

They part ways soon afterwards, regardless. He drifts back to Beacon Hills, to sell the properties he bought there when he hoped owning land would give him roots. Maybe he’ll visit Peter. Maybe he’ll visit Laura’s grave. Either way, it’s somewhere to be. A familiar place to not belong.

He does not anticipate being dragged along on Scott’s pack’s graduation camping trip. In other words, he does not anticipate Stiles.

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Barely Legal

“Stay in the car,” Dean preached to you, glaring with stone eyes. You didn’t have the best track record of listening to him.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying not to laugh at his withering expression. You drew an “x” over your heart and gave him an innocent gaze. He glared at you trying to ascertain whether or not you were bullshitting around. Per usual, he couldn’t say, so he left you with an idle threat.

Sam gave you an apologetic smile and followed his brother into the house in the middle of the woods with demons inside. Not just any demons either, these were demons who really wanted to melt their faces off. They went with the usual gear: holy water, guns, demon knife and their tongues. You thought that was idiotic but most things they did were, so you didn’t bother worrying for them. They seemed to be more adept than your father at hunting. That was an obvious concept given that he was dead. The Winchester’s took you in as your father’s dying wish and here you were, playing with Dean’s radio for the hell of it. Every once in a while you glanced towards the house curiously. How long were they supposed to take?

Dean and Sam sat bound in chairs, bruised and bloodied. There were more demons than previously conceived and they had been lured into a well devised trap. The ring leader was in the middle of her self-congratulatory rant, because killing those two the first chance she got was just too easy. Dean’s vision blurred slightly uder the force of another hit.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this, Dean Winchester?” The woman asked walking closely to him.

“I don’t know, you look pretty old so-” he answered but she shut him up with a quick slap.

“My meatsuit didn’t appreciate that,” she informed. She grasped his head in both of her hands with the intentions of snapping his neck. In Dean’s final moment, he couldn’t help but to think of the girl sitting in the car. You were about to be on your own again. The thought brought him an odd sense of sadness, like he had failed you.

The door to the cabin flew open and holy water rained as you threw up a bottle and shot it. While the demons in the room were caught of guard you took out the two closest to you. Your foot kicked his feet from under him letting gravity help you as you drove the angel blade, you found in the truck, into his chest. Before the one behind you could react you used every bit of your leg strength to push you from your squatting position on the floor and jam the blade through his soft pallet into his brain before withdrawing it. Two down, for more to go. By that time every demon was on high alert throwing themselves at you with astounding strength. One caught you from behind, trying to unarm you. You took the flask from between your breasts and splashed holy water in his face before using his hold on you to use the demon in front of you as a brick wall to run up and flip over the demon holding you captive. Ultimately this put you behind him, and made him confused you stabbed him through the back, repeating the motion to be sure he died. Swift kicks to the face rendered another two disoriented and they died under your hand. The next demon was rudementary to kill he ran right into your blade falling on you consequently but you pushed off the dead body.

“Don’t move! Or I kill him!” The woman shrieked as she held a knife to Dean’s neck.

“Eh do it,” you shrugged standing up. You turned and began to leave.

“What?!” Both the demon and Dean yelled. You turned in one lightning fast movement you threw the knife letting it hit the demon in between her eyes. You needed her face to move away from Dean’s; her surprise gave you just that.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasped looking at the dead bodies. You walked over and pulled the blade from the woman’s skull before cutting Dean loose and then Sam.

“Sam,” you called, being sure he was awake.

“Yeah,” he answered immediately. You looked him over and decided that his injuries were purely cosmetic. Dean had taken the forefront of the abuse. You wondered if that’s why he never shut up in these situations, so Sam wouldn’t really get hurt.

“Cas,” you called while you moved on to Dean. His nose was broken, eye swelling, cheekbones the color of plums, “c'mon angel your golden child’s pretty beat up,” you said and felt the extra presence in the room.

Cas strode until he was just behind you. You moved out of the way so he could heal him, then Sam. Cas’s speculative eye fell on you and you waved him off.

“I’m fit as a fiddle, wings,” you said calling him by the nickname you had become fond of. He seemed confused as he took in the bodies on the floor.

“Holy shit! Where’d you learn to fight like that?!” Dean demanded.

“My father, though he left me in the car on hunts too, and we both see what that got him,” you gave your cryptic answer and began leaving the house, “C'mon I’m hungry.”

Dean looked over to Sam who was watching you with a wary gaze. You just killed six people, and you didn’t seem to think anything of it. Dean was caught in awe. Thinking of the way your lithe body had just killed every demon in the place and know you were walking out like a bad ass. He was wondering if you were old enough to warrant such a reaction out of him.

“Y/N’s eighteen, right?” Dean asked. Sam turned his head slowly to deliver his brother a carefully fashioned, highly disgusted glare, “what? If…she wasn’t then…we couldn’t go celebrate in…the place I wanted to,” Dean tried to cover up his weird slip-up.

“Uh huh,” Sam nodded not even close to convinced.

“Is she?” He insisted.

“Just barely,” Sam said as if answering the question physically hurt. Just barely still counted right?

“Hey, wings,” you called as you leaned against the car. He was at your side in an instant.

“Yes?” He answered. You looked over at him with one of your rare genuine smiles.

“I don’t think those two jokers thank you enough. I’m sure you have better things to do, but thanks…on their behalf,” you offered. He gave you a curious look.

“How old are you?” He asked confused.

“E-eighteen,” you stuttered,“why?”

“You seem so much older,” he spoke more to himself than to you.

“Old soul,” you chuckled and watched the two men finally emerge from the cabin, “God, about time. Come on you two, consumate your love later. I’m starving,” you called out as you got in the car.

Sam got in the passenger seat, and looked back at you with a worried expression. You looked back at him confused by his stare.

“What?” You demanded after a while.

“You just killed six people,” he informed, clearly more troubled by the idea than you were.

“I just killed six demons,” you corrected.

“The bodies they have are people,” he insisted.

“They don’t want life after that,” you answered looking out of the window wondering lightly where Cas went.

“You sound like you know that personally,” Dean said.

You shrugged, “Maybe I do,” there was I reason you had no mother to fall back on.

“C'mon, victory tattoo,” Dean chimed, “you need an anti-possesion tattoo so you don’t have to know personally again,” he said nothing dampening his mood. You rolled your eyes and relaxed in the backseat.

“Fine,” you said.

Dean glanced back at you with a cheeky grin that made you laugh. You sat up and flicked his ear.

“You are such a goofball,” you laughed then pinched, “it’s cute.”

You thought you saw his cheeks redden. They might be a little idiotic but you wouldn’t trade them.