#each and every single one of you motherfuckers are in a different genre
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so heres what happened. right.
1: best girl watched her father (who is a dilf btw that fact is important) cosplay as a medusa victim. thats pretty much the only drama since the rest of her story is straight up shonen anime fight scenes. you do not get betrayed.
2: hey so you watched your best friend/brother in arms kill your king and abandon you without any explanation leaving you to question the entire reason for existing if you cant even protect the one person you swore an oath to protect. hows that survivors guilt workin for you? you got betrayed by your best friend.
3: book man holds the title for “most betrayals” at three different people. half his story is all quirky philosophical shit and the other half is existential philosophical shit that made me want to question the meaning of life. you got betrayed by your boss who turned into a demonic monster, your colleague who turned into an even more demonic monster, and your student who accused you of entering an illicit relationship that got you kicked out of your workplace
4: family trauma, but spice it up with religious shit to keep it fresh. losing your father without ever getting the chance to say goodbye to him. having your sister walk headfirst ballsdeep into a cult because of her grief that youre unable to help her through bc youre on the other side of the world. also you got betrayed. by someone you met at your fuckin church. who tried to use your sister to corrupt your gods holy relic. and also tried to sacrifice a shit ton of people but mostly its about the corruption of the holy relic that will unseal a great evil. your sister also betrays you but to be fair shes brainwashed by a cult so
5. himbo healer coming in debatin the worth of a life, whether or not you should save someone w knowledge that the someone is a shifty piece of shit. figuring out what the entire purpose of your existence is if your actions led to some kid gettin abducted for ransom. dealin with discount rasputin that had every disease on gods green earth; physical and mental. also you got betrayed. twice. once by a colleague who you trusted for the brief time you knew her, another by a man you saved who then proceeded to commit more crimes while thanking you for helping him.
6: best boy with a normal enough story. you know. wandering around without ever a place to call home because of severe trust issues. being blackmailed into working for someone when they straight up cuff you with some magical accessory. going on your little quest to find that the man responsible for ruining your ability to believe in others took the artifacts you need to get out the cuff. oh and every interaction you have with him involves him insulting and belittling you by the way. you got betrayed by your partner, who told you he only kept you around because you were useful and that you meant nothing to him. and then he shoved you off a cliff. still have no idea how you survived but you prolly wished you died there so you dont have to live the rest of your life thinkin about what-ifs huh?
7: your father got stabbed and the only reason why you didnt follow him into the afterlife is bc you want to stab the stabbers first. great. how does it feel watching your only friend die in front of you bc she helped you on your stupid vengeance quest? how does it feel killing the men responsible and feeling nothing? the catharsis you hoped for isnt there. youve bloodied your hands and for what? youre just empty and now youve lost your reason for living. you got betrayed by your childhood friend/maybe lover. the man straight up tells you he missed you, how he searched for you, longed for you, and then stabs you while laughing maniacally. how the only happiness he feels is by watching your misery. oh and he made a play mocking your life. i cried at each and every single one of your chapters.
8: a heartwarming adventure about a young woman who gets inspired to travel the world bc of a reformed pirate she met by happenstance. along the way she meets a friend and rival who pushes her to become the best merchant she can be, participates in a grand auction that showcases her talents, and learns that the greatest treasure she could ever have is her journey and the memories she made along the way. also she gets like a billion dollars. and the story of her adventures inspires someone else to start their own. at the end of it all you return home to two loving parents who welcome you back with open arms. you do not get betrayed
#everyone out here fightin for their lives and green pea is havin a merry little journey lmao#i love you tho#each and every single one of you motherfuckers are in a different genre#octopath traveler#salt speaks
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FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook.
pair. barista! jungkook x f. reader | genre. friends with benefits, romance, jealousy, angst | warnings. possessiveness, profanity, pet names, unprotected sex, slight toxic behavior, degradation kink, zenophilia, oral sex, edging, spit kink, exhibitionism, smoking | word count. 4.7k
synopsis. “oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.
You dared bring another fucking guy in his work place.
Was it deliberate? God knows you love your little fucking mind games, especially if Jungkook’s on the receiving end. Oh, he was beyond furious. He had half a mind o spit in the fuckers coffee and smugly watch as he drinks that shit, completely unaware as he desperately tries to shove his tongue down your throat after that, one date in.
But you’d know. You were always better at reading him, deciphering the different expressions on his face. He ought to bruise your fucking ass for this, spank you till you’re dripping wet for him, and then shove his cock in your mouth, facefuck you until your stupid hole is sore, and your cunt is clenching for no one but him.
What a pathetic loser. What the fuck did you see in this clown?
“Dude, you’re shaking. You okay?” Jimin nudges him with his elbow, raising a questioning eyebrow, black hair falling in his curious eyes.
Jungkook shakes his head, and removes his apron angrily, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and phone with him. He knows he’s being unreasonable; you’re single, and beautiful, God so fucking beautiful it physically hurts him, and he’s just the lucky guy that gets to fuck you whenever you’re up for it, nothing more, nothing less. A supporting character. Fuck, he knows. But his feelings are for him, they’re private, and right now they’re out of fucking control.
The urge to punch your date in the throat is driving him up a wall. He needs to get the fuck away from here—away from you and your innocent, ignorant ways. Deep breaths, deep fucking breaths Jeon, she hasn’t fucked him yet, and don’t you dare picture that, don’t be a fucking dick, walk away, walk away now.
“I’m going on break,” he announces, but he’s already on the other side of the counter, going for the door, hands busy with the lighter you gifted him on his birthday.
You’ve said your hello’s, you exchanged the necessary, polite words you do every time you see each other in public so there’s nothing else to say. He doesn’t look at you as he passes by, can’t bear to. There’s nothing else you could possibly want with him, not unless it’s after hours, behind closed bedroom doors. Or bathroom ones—or rooftops, staircases, couches, balconies, the beach that one time, his car, the steering wheel digging into your lower back, just last week—no.
Not fucking going there.
Sitting on the ledge right outside the shop, he puts the cig in his mouth, bringing that silver lighter close to it, lighting the edge of it. Taking an inhale of the stick between his fingers, he feels the harmful calm it produces overtake him for the first time that day. He needed nicotine like he needed your pussy pressed against his face, especially since you walked in with that lame looking motherfucker after you told him you’d call.
You never did.
Jungkook doesn’t want to be this way; he never used to curse this much, smoke this much, not before he met you. You’ve tested him in every possible way a man can be tested, have haunted his every waking thought, have wrapped him around your pretty fucking finger and are twirling him around in a never ending, whiplash inducing dance out of which there’s no escape. He’d do anything for you, be anything for you, god he already has, but you couldn’t care less. There was no love in you for him—not the kind he has for you.
Trust him, he wishes he could cut all ties with you, forget you. Stop loving you so goddamn much. But there’s no button for that, no way he can get out of his own body, discard his heart.
Goddamn him, his fucking dick is hard just with the proximity of you. Knowing you were near, having smelled your perfume earlier, the sweetness of your scent mixed with vanilla and something floral, something he’s only smelled on you, and that cursed mini skirt, fuck him, with those legs of yours… legs he’s had wrapped around his torso, over his shoulders, legs he’s kissed a thousand times over, has run his hands over, has worshipped.
No, you couldn’t do this to him. This is the last time you fuck him over, the last time he lets you—he’s going to put you in your fucking place, he decides. He’s going to have to show you who’s been there for you, who fucks you dumb, senseless—who’s cock you’ve been screaming for over and over again, who’s cum you’re craving down your throat almost every night.
Who you belong to. Because fuck anyone that dares so much as think they can have you. You’re his. He just has to get it through that thick head of yours, once and for all. Before he goes fucking insane.
Finishing his smoke, he ties his hair back and away from his face, getting off your Instagram page at once. Look at him, obsessing over your whereabouts, the tags on your pictures, who you’re with when he’s not with you. In you. Fucking ridiculous.
He goes to your last text conversation, a curt message from you two days ago at three in the morning. His eyes skim over it, reading it in your drunk voice, that delicious slur of your tongue, the way you must’ve slowly blinked at his texting you so late in the night. He wants you to think of him always, all goddamn day. As much as he does.
He wants you as obsessed as him.
[03:21am] just came home.
[03:22am] it’s late (y/n). go to sleep.
He decides to text you, then. Make sure you know he’s not going to let this go, that you’re taking it too far coming there, dressed like that, and with another man when his seed is still inside of you.
[19:07pm] is this my replacement? disappointed in you sweetheart.
If Jungkook’s good at anything—he knows how to get a good rise out of you. All that’s left is to sit patiently and wait. You’ll come to him, eventually. You always do.
A half an hour later, you’re standing in front of him, manicured nails digging into your crossed arms in barely contained anger.
He wipes his hands with a rug, giving Jimin the drinks he’d just made, completely ignoring your thunderous glaring. He feels those eyes pierce through his soul, though. How can he not—he’s never been very good at pretending, and God knows you demand all of his attention.
“Replacement? Really, Jungkook?”
Jimin looks between the two of you, sensing the tension. He’s always suspected there’s something going on, but that just confirmed it. Failing to hide his smirk, he balances the tray in one palm and fucks off to the last remaining table for the day.
“Am I wrong?” Jungkook stares at your mouth, the dark stain of your lips, the curve of your jaw, those ample cheeks of yours—you’ve such a cute fuckable face, it’s one of his worst weaknesses.
He can never stay mad at you for long.
“You are.”
“My apologies, angel.”
The sarcasm doesn’t escape you.
You sigh, leaning against the counter, extending both hands towards him. He blinks at them, his own morphing into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t cave in, not this time. You needed to be taught a lesson. You needed to stop refusing him, treating him like second choice.
“Can we talk about this later?” You say in that velvet voice of yours, the one that never fails to hypnotize him into submission. “He’s waiting for me outside.”
Jungkook let’s out a dry laugh, nodding his head bitterly at your words. There’s no magic behind them today, no spell. “We wouldn’t want him to wait,” he deadpans.
“Jungkook.”
“(Y/N).”
You huff, and remove yourself from the bar completely. His body instinctively moves closer, but his mind is set. A terrible fucking jealousy is eating him alive, setting him aflame.
“You’re acting childish.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not the one two-timing people,” he retorts as calmly as possible, wanting to hurt you a little. Nothing like how you’ve hurt him. “Does he know how filthy you like getting fucked? How there’s another man that knows his way around your body like the palm of his fucking hand?”
You step back, face betraying guilt. “Stop it.”
He shrugs, and winks at you, proud of himself. “It’s the truth, angel. Don’t bring him into this if you don’t want him getting hurt.”
“You’re such an asshole, Jeon Jungkook,” you snapped, eyes glittering with tears. Jungkook looked away at once, his jaw clenching in annoyance.
Are you really taking that fuckers side? How long have you known him? Maybe a fucking week, if he had to guess. Jungkook has had you for years.
“Don’t ruin this for me,” you demanded, stomping your foot like a little kid.
Jimin had returned to his post next to his friend, and was witnessing your amusing temper tantrum. He also noticed the younger man’s struggle, the effort it took to stay put in that place of his.
“Ruin?” He mused over the word out loud, then laughed wholeheartedly, with his entire chest. It was an empty sound, a patronizing thing. “If you want to go with him, be my fucking guest baby girl. But if you do,” he warns, forearm resting on the wood in front of him. “you better forget about me. I’m not fucking sharing you.”
You stood hurt, a sour expression curving those perfect lips downwards, weighing your options. This was the moment Jungkook would finally see if you truly thought anything of him, if he mattered enough for you. Or at least if he was more important than a random guy you picked off a club. And God he hoped, for your sake, you picked him. Otherwise he would not be responsible for the Hell he’d give you afterwards.
Who he’d become if you dropped him. He’s scared of himself.
“What’s it going to be?” He presses, pinning you in place with those dark orbs. “Don’t make me become someone I don’t want to be, honey. You and I both know you’ll regret it.”
“Fuck you.”
Jungkook smiles at you, all charm and danger. “It’d be my pleasure.”
When you sulkily sit on the bar stool, and start typing on your phone, your decision sets in him. You chose him. His chest swells, his cock straining against his pants. He’d take you right then and there if he could; lift you on top of the counter, and fuck into you until all you know is his name, until all other men pale in comparison to him. What he does instead—he pulls your face in for a bruising kiss, his big hand cupping your jaw tightly, his tongue forcing your lips open.
“Get a room, Jesus,” he hears Jimin mutter, but he could give less of a fuck. He’s waited way too long for this. Let them watch, I know how to put on a fucking show.
You melt under his touch, letting him consume you. He growls low, and bites down on your bottom lip. You moan, and everything blurs—you’re alone. He craves nothing but you, needs to have you before insanity renders him incapable of fucking you properly.
“I’m getting off early,” he hesitantly pulls back and slaps Jimin’s chest, apron coming off in a blink of an eye.
“Sure, yeah, cause you can do that,” his friend sarcastically replies, but lets him go anyway.
“Don’t be too mad at him,” you add, smiling sweetly. Jimin smiles back, can’t help it. Jungkook glares, messenger bag over his shoulder, and jumps over the wooden top in one swift move.
“Stop fucking staring, Park,” he wraps an arm around your waist protectively, and takes you away. “I’m off!”
You barely made it to the car, before Jungkook turned you around, locking you between the passenger door and his muscled chest. His knee pushed between your legs, your hands on his sides squeezing the skin there. His head dipped to your ear, voice soothing you open, receptive. When his fingers disappeared beneath your skirt, a gasp tore through your throat, goosebumps rising on your skin.
You wanted him too, your pussy told him so. Your panties were all creamed up, thighs begging to be rubbed together to provide any sort of friction. He gave it to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit. You were throbbing—fuck how much he loved this.
“Tell me baby girl, were you going to keep him around for me to watch while you get fucked? You know you only have to ask,” he whispered, teasing you with those long fucking fingers of his.
In plain sight, for everyone to see. Christ.
“Like Hell you would,” you retort, breathless. “You’re a selfish man, Jungkook.”
He smirks at that, clicks his tongue against his teeth, and chuckles darkly. “You’re right on that,” he pulls you on him and rubs his erection against your clothed cunt. “Can’t let no one touch what is mine.”
“I’m not yours.” A weak remark, as your hips moved with his. He ignored it entirely.
He saw your naked neck, the way you swallowed, and attacked the sensitive skin there, grazing it with his teeth, sucking harshly on it. You hissed at the sensation, yet wanted more. What a contradiction of a woman, Jungkook thought, pulling me in but pushing me away. Unfortunately, for what he was planning on doing to you, he couldn’t be seen.
“Oh, but you are,” he whispers against your cheek, cuffing both of your wrists in one hand behind your back, slowly opening the car door for you to get in. “Oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much.”
He lowered his head to be on eye level with you. He couldn’t possibly make it any clearer, not unless he bought a ring and put some babies in you.
“I own you.”
Your eyes told him so. The musk on his fingers guaranteed it. He smacked the door shut, licking your juices clean off. You tasted like fucking paradise.
He’d fucking destroy you.
Jungkook loved your neck, how easily it could turn purple, how perfect his hand fit around it, almost like it was made for him. He wouldn’t doubt it for a fucking second—the rest of you molded all over him, every nook and cranny.
Lifting you up the kitchen table, he felt like taking you raw, just like that; pushing your skirt up and burying himself in your folds. His thumb hooked between your lips, pressed down to open your mouth, your gaze following his movements closely. Pudding in his hands, to do whatever he pleased. Every time.
“Look at my little slut,” he admired, pushing his thumb in his second favorite hole of yours. “Suck, baby, show me what that mouth does best.” You did, your tongue swiping all around, over and under, wetting and sucking dry, repeating again and again, until Jungkook was satisfied.
He never was. If he could, he’d fucking snort you up, have you run through his bloodstream for the rest of time. His perfect fucking girl, the one that refuses to give into him, the one that drives him mad.
“Are you thinking about him?” He asks you, the same jealousy nibbling at him. It never left—it never leaves. “How his fingers taste, how they’d curl inside that cunt of yours? It’s fucking morphine, did you know, sweetheart? Why do you think you got me on my knees for you?”
He removes his digit, and decides playtime is over. He’s been lenient enough. You notice exactly when the change takes place, when his eyes darken, and your breathing quickens, fear replacing exhilaration. This was the cruel man that could make you come just with his filthy words. As much as you fucking loved it, he was ruthless—absolutely brutal.
“No,” you mumble, shaking your head. “No, Kook, no, I never—”
Not your coffee boy, but the one that uses a belt to teach you lessons. The one that always knows just how far you’re willing to go.
“Shut the fuck up. You knew what you were doing.”
Jungkook spits in your open mouth, squeezing your throat submissive. You struggle to breathe, but you take it, tightening your thighs around his hips in shameful arousal. He watches you swallow, tongue coming out to show him, just as he likes. He rewards you with a suffocating kiss, before he does it again.
“I bet you wondered how his dick would feel against those velvet fucking walls of yours,” he continued his verbal torture, his other hand pushing your panties to the side, feeling your slick, lapping it with his index, before shoving three fingers inside you at once. You hissed, nails digging holes on his shoulders.
“Yeah?” He fucks you with his entire hand, palm rubbing against your clit. You can’t think of nothing else but getting filled to the brim. “Your mouth works doesn’t it, honey?”
“No one’s fucked me but you in two years,” you confess in a haze, looking at him through your eyelids. Silver shone on his lip and eyebrow under the hidden lighting of his apartment. A shadow draped in gold.
You saw the movement of his jaw, the way his mouth became a thin line. He obviously enjoyed hearing that. But was it enough? Fuck no.
“But they’ve touched you,” he bitterly concludes. “They’ve tasted my pussy, my lips… haven’t they?” He sounded so miserable, so resentful. Your heart ached for him.
You loved this man, but he would never believe you, and you can’t blame him. You loved him in a different way, the only way you knew how. And he did the same. You met and crashed like waves. Your silence was answer enough.
The next moment struck like lightning. All you felt was pain, as he pushed you down on your elbows and ripped your panties off you in one movement. You weren’t even able to scream, the action barely registering in your brain.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed you, no part of him touching you whatsoever. A shudder rippled through you, and down to your unclothed pussy. You scrambled to do as told, afraid of the consequences, hands shaking.
Jungkook groaned impatiently. “Stupid fucking whore, can’t even do something as simple as this,” he snarled at your face, every ounce of affection gone. “D’you need help, sweetheart? Perhaps a manual? None of this is helping your case, you know.”
“I’m—I’m sorry, please,” you whimper, hurrying to undo the stubborn buttons.
He cocked an eyebrow, gaze vicious. Hateful. Something kicked inside of you, a horrifying feeling—you were losing him. He was going to leave you after this. All he’s ever wanted, all you very much were aware of that he craved most—to have you all to himself, to call you his. You never gave it to him, always held back, and for what you’ve no idea. But this, having your body, pleasuring the both of you, it was the one thing if not the only part he had, the one thing he could do, he was allowed.
“Please,” he repeated, the word seemingly unfamiliar to him. “Please, what? Are you sorry at all, baby girl? Do you want me to go easy on you?”
You shake your head again, pushing the shirt off him, bulky muscle now exposed, the chiseled chest you so loved running your tongue over, and the V disappearing beneath his boxers, inviting, nearly a threat.
“Fuck me,” you pleaded, reaching a hand out to touch him, his most private part. “Please. I know I’ve hurt you, I’m sorry, please set me straight, fuck it out of me, I want only you, I promise, only you.”
“Lies,” he shouts, and lunges at you, pinning you down by your waist, skirt pulled roughly from your body. You’re met with the ceiling, but won’t dare move, won’t make a sound unless he tells you to. It’s a thin fucking line you’re walking on, one you haven’t experienced a whole lot.
You hear a shuffling of sorts, before a thud and then you feel it—his hot breath on your cold folds. Those veiny hands on your hips again, before he devours you. The vibration of his growling sends you into a frenzy, and you clench around nothing. Your clit between his sinful lips he sucks painfully at first, wanting to hurt you, but gently afterwards, after your cries settle and you’ve accepted your fate.
You’re at his mercy, and you better behave.
“Used fucking pussy,” he spits on it, fingers working together with his mouth to get you ready for his bulging cock. “What am I supposed to do with a second hand slut like you, huh? Begging to be filled with dick, dripping over my kitchen table…” he tsk’s, tongue flat against your wetness. “You don’t fucking need me, right, I’m just another naive guy wrapped around your goddamn finger, you could have me replaced at any time.”
“That’s not true!” you cry out immediately, hand getting lost in his thick brown locks. “Fuck!” A slap cuts the air—on your pussy. And he does it again, smacks the sensitive area until it’s red and throbbing and licking all over his chin.
“Quiet,” he snaps. “I can make it hurt like never before, honey, don’t fucking test me.”
You’re certain you’re losing your mind by that point, the ache between your legs overwhelming everything else, the thought of needing his cock like you need oxygen the only reasonable solution to making the pain go away. You’re coming before you know it, and Jungkook is a starving man, he licks it all up, licks you dry, marveling at the way your body responds to him, always has.
If only your heart would do the same. If only there was something he could do to make it beat only for him, as his does for you.
“No one will make you come like I do, sweetheart, God my fucking witness. No one knows their way around this pussy like I do, no one will fucking take the time.”
You go to sit up, pull him into you, needing comfort, needing your friend back, the one that made you feel good because you asked, not the half mad one, the obsession, the misshapen thing—for once you need his warm love, the one he’s been talking about, the one hiding behind the heartbreak. You don’t care how awful that is, how selfish you sound.
His palm presses down on your stomach as he towers over you, taking all light with him, flushed cock standing proudly between you, inches away from where you need it most. If he would just move closer, if perhaps you could wiggle further down the table…
“Do not fucking move, angel,” he warns, kissing your sobs silent. With a flick of his wrist, your breasts are in full view, his fingers pinching the erect nipples, calloused palms slapping the plump skin, abusing it.
Every touch vibrates directly in your cunt. You’ve become a blubbering mess, needing nothing but that long stick between his legs. A whore, as he said, a whore with no other purpose than taking dick, his dick, only his, because he’s the only one you want, the only one you need, the only one touching you like this, pushing your limits, driving you over the edge—
“Look at you, my beautiful mess,” he kisses your lips again and again, yet refuses to touch your core. Endless torture, when will it end, when will it end! “Do you understand now? This is what it feels having you under me every night, yet not having you at all,” he shushes your gut wrenching cries, removes your hands from your face, forces you to look at him. “My baby, my love…” he coo’s tenderly, caressing all the way down your body, before his arms hook under your thighs.
He positions you just at the edge of the round table, and quickly leans to lap at your cunt one last time. Christ, fucking Heaven in a woman; it’s alright sweetheart, it’s over, shhh, no more crying, I got you where I want you, I’ll take care of you now, no more crying, fuck if you could see yourself right now, so goddamn hot, a fucking vision just for me, just for your man, you perfect angel, you perfect fucking thing, all for me, all this for me—
You couldn’t describe the tidal wave of relief that washed over you as soon as he buried himself inside you. Both hands on your waist, he slammed you down onto his rock hard cock, his pace fast, relentless, absolutely everything you could’ve ever asked for.
“Harder, fuck, fucking kill me! Don’t stop, please, please, please, please…” incoherent thoughts jumbled together in a string of words, yet Jungkook understood perfectly.
Of course he did.
“Fucking slut…only way you deserve to be fucked…I’m gonna flip this cunt inside out, sweetheart, so no one will be able to screw you. You’re taking my cock so well, baby girl, fuck I want to tear you apart, I want to write my name in this pussy, mark it,” he growled in your ear, manhandling you like a goddamn lifeless doll, pistoling into you with incredible force, so much so you’d think he’d bruise you from the inside, but you couldn’t stop begging him to do so, all of it feeling oh so fucking good.
You want me to mark you, don’t you, you want me drilling into you all fucking day, I know you do, you insatiable goddamn pain in the ass, let me hear you, scream for me, baby, let me know who’s fucking you—say my name, he tightens his grip on your throat, his eyes insane with lust.
“Say my fucking name.”
“Jungkook,” you moan into his hair, nails scratching down his back.
“That’s right, baby. Again.”
“Jungkook!”
I fucking love you, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck if you never love me back, just give me this pussy, let me drown in it, let me get lost and hide forever in your folds, yeah baby? Come for me now, cream on my dick sweet thing, c’mon, one two three—you scream at the top of your lungs, holding onto him for fear life as your body convulses violently, his own release spurting in thick white strips on your stomach as he barely manages to pull out, and everything goes black. He keeps you on him until you calm down, his pace slow and steady, fucking you both back down to reality.
Your breathing is incredibly labored, hair sticking on your forehead. You look so fucking beautiful to him, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. His pretty girl. He kisses your forehead overtaken by the strange feeling in his chest.
“God—I love you, you know?” You mumble against his chin, suddenly very shy.
Jungkook stills, his entire world pausing its spinning. “What did you just say?”
You try to cover your face, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than you, much more determined to look into those eyes that could never lie to him. You could make him the happiest man on earth or send him down to the darkest pits of Hell with just three words.
“I love you,” you repeat hesitantly, looking up at him. His expression crumbles. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, that I’m late and you probably want nothing more to do with me after this, but—”
His palm slams your mouth shut. Your eyes widen in surprise.
Jungkook then, still inside you, looks at you with the fondest look on his face, his body weight pressing down on you in the most delicious way.
“You’ve no idea what the fuck you’re saying right now, sweetheart, so I’ll forgive you,” he blinks, bewildered, in disbelief. “I never said I’m leaving you. It’s never crossed my mind.”
You furrow your eyebrows, but your words are muffled. He seems to comprehend perfectly well, anyway.
“You could kill me if you wanted, and I’d willingly die by your hand, (Y/N). Have you any idea what it means to love you?”
When he kisses you again, you think you can begin to understand.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#bts smut#jungkook fanfics#jungkook imagines#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts fanfics#jungkook fics#bts fics#jungkook imagine#.mine
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LIMBO | JUN
pairing: bf!jun x gn!reader
genre: fluff // warnings: swear words & not edited
summary: how you celebrate the release of your boyfriend’s new single ‘Limbo’ // word count: 700
note: I know it’s no longer release day for Limbo but I can’t not write a fic for him celebrating Limbo being out :)) enjoy
When you first got the news that your boyfriend was releasing a new single, you were super excited. Plus it seemed like this single was very different from his other ones.
Honestly you were losing it along with the other carats. It was super fun and hilarious to see what the carats were saying on Twitter. All of the theories and fangirling.
Unfortunately Jun would be out of the country when it dropped but that didn’t mean you didn’t celebrate the release with him. On the night it was released, you had decided to FaceTime him.
Setting your phone on the stand and pulling up the music video. Jun was starting to get giddy but also shy. He virtually tried to stop you from watching it in front of him.
“Babe, please! I’ll do anything for you when we get back.” All of the while, he was starting to pull the covers over his eyes that way he didn’t have to see it. Noticing what he was he doing, you immediately tried to stop it.
“Junnie, pleaseeeeee!! How are you going to act shy when you’re literally a part of one of the hottest k-pop groups to exist?“
Man, nothing makes Jun more flustered when he hears praise from you. “Babe, if you keep on talking. You’re going to have a tomato instead of a boyfriend.”
Life is fun when you have Jun as your boyfriend. One thing about Jun is that he is never ever lacking in the comedic department. Every day, he finds something to make you laugh about.
“Come onnn! I have it pulled up.” He eventually pulls the covers down to watch your reaction. You push play and watch with love (and maybe even a bit of lust) in your eyes. Jun watching you watching him. Laughing about that thought, he returns to your reaction.
Given that it’s late in the night, you have to not let out a scream. It was really hard and Jun knew you wanted to let it out. It was making him laugh again. He thought you were really cute.
“Jun. What. The. Heck??” Taking in one deep breath before exhaling. “YOU LOOKED SO COOL AND THE LYRICS AND THE SET AND THE CLOTHES AND THE LYRICS AND MOST IMPORTANTLY YOU!!!!!” You can’t help but take another breather. He was hot.
That’s nothing new but my god. Even though, you have the real deal. The fangirling tendencies will never go away. “Wen Junhui. You are one hot ass motherfucker. Cannot believe you’re mine.”
He smirks and so do you. At the same time, you both say “Damn right, I’m yours”.
“Thank you, my love. As always, your support is appreciated. I’m glad you loved it. I hope the carats like it too.” If only you could be with him right now, you’d kiss him to shut up. “Of course, they’ll love it. Carats kind of go crazy for this stuff. Not to mention how confident you look. You were practically dripping in confidence and guess what? We ,including me, find that fucking attractive. I could go on and on about this, but it’s late.”
“I know you’re tired and your flight is a few hours. I’ll set you free for tonight.” Shooting a glance at him. Hoping he gets the little joke there. “I love you and just so you know. I’m going to scream about how good Limbo is when you get back. Night junnie!”
“I love you too y/n! I’ll text you when I land and thank you again for showing so much love to Limbo!” Waving goodbye and send a flying kiss each to other, the FaceTime ends.
Laying in bed, you let out a sigh. Not a sigh out of tiredness though. One of out of love and admiration. Jun is truly one of the best performers, singers, and more that you know.
When he’s back, you’re going to have to shower him more in compliments. Especially about how proud you are of him. Welcoming him to a banner with the words: “welcome to my limbo”. Even if it’s months later of the release of his single, you’ll still celebrate it as if it just got released.
okay but I’m kind of in love with this banner 💀 anyways STREAM LIMBO YALL AND VOTE FOR HIM !!
I hope Jun knows how much chaos he’s caused in caratland since the release of Limbo. Literally on repeat and god the falsettos from him. THEY NEVER DISAPPOINT
If you liked this, please send me an ask or reblog with tags about what you liked!! Reblogs are super helpful.
signing off with love,
- ash
#caratwritersclub#kflixnet#underworldnet#seventeen#svt#jun x reader#junhui x reader#SVT x reader#seventeen x reader#wen junhui#jun the man that you are#SVT jun#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenario#SVT jun x reader#seventeen scenarios#Junhui
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Ah, it's so refreshing having a good and surprisingly mature take on romance and the topics os self-loathing and insecurities...
But by god that begining was atrocious.
That was definitely one of the worst "early instalment weirdness" I've ever seen. They wanted to paint this boy as a chuunibyou that wants to sound edgy and dark and brooding, and they overshot and made him look and act like a school shooter in the making. I almost dropped it by the second chapter, the fan service later also didn't helped much, but in the end I'm glad I'm a stubborn motherfucker and pushed through.
Because Christ it is so good to see characters that have a reason to not realize each other's feeling, not because they are dense but because they have so much doubt and self hatred that even when they notice the signs, they continue to push them away because they don't feel like they are deserving of love.
I love when characters have to actually face their flaws to understand love. That they see that they are deserving of loving and being loved by others, but first they need to confront and love themselves. And it's not an easy process, it's long and arduous and most of the time you have to drag yourself kicking and screaming forward because your brain refuses to accept it.
There's an odd comfort into just accepting you're not worth, being known is a terrifying thought.
And even when people are certain of the feelings involved by both parties there's still a doubt that makes them hesitate. The shell that kept them safe is also a prison that needs determination to break through.
It's also incredibly refreshing to see misunderstandings not spiral out of control. When those things happen the characters soon actually talk and try to confront what is going on in spite of their own immediate conclusions. It's such a rare sight to see and I always need to praise when a story does it. Yeah miscommunication causes problems, it is inevitable, but in real life people try to confront the situation, I never understood why every single character in other stories always just believes the worst without a single reason.
And I'm a sucker for ships like Tall gf x Short bf, aloof x ray of sunshine, teasing master x blushing mess, but I also like when the characters realize that they are so similar regardless of the outward looks. That the insecurities and doubts and self-loathing are something that both understand and share, even if they deal with it in different ways.
I like when people realize that even if they seem from completely different worlds, nobody understands them like the other.
I think Daphne here put it best how this story deals with most of the bad takes from the genre
The story was quite amazing, in spite of the terrible start and constant fanservice. I have no regrets.
Except for not dragging Adachi behind a shed and shooting him in the head. Jesus and I thought Mineta was bad, that boy is in a whole different level.
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Grunge-Metal Geralt
Hi, im fucking trash for the idea of Geralt being the front man for a Five Finger Death Punch type band and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. This music genre is my bread and butter and I think Geralt’s repressed but highly emotional ass would fit right in. Yes im using another Hozier song, no i dont wanna hear anything about it. I’m a basic bitch and ive made my peace with it
Warnings: i honestly have no idea, its a little horny, little emotional, but theres no actual character interaction?, its at a concert venue? idk yall.
_________________________
Jaskier was… out of his comfort zone.
It’s not that he didn’t like the grunge-metal music, he just hadn’t listened to much and he was not used to the energy. People were yelling and screaming and the opener hadn’t even come on yet. He didn’t feel unsafe, far from it. Several people had checked to see if he was okay, seeing as he was the only person in the entire arena wearing a sweater that wasn't ripped or faded to hell. It was just a far cry from the shows he was used to.
He played folky-blues. This was nothing like his shows.
When the lights went down the crowd was deafening, all moving as one to rush the front of the floor, not giving a single fuck about tickets.
The openers were exciting, and Jaskier was surprised by some of the concepts and messages behind the music. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all and he found himself searching them up on Spotify to listen later.
Then came The Witchers.
Eskel and Lambert made their energetic entrance, followed by Aiden calmly walking to his drums and sitting as if he were walking into a college class. But Geralt was nowhere in sight. The one person Jaskier had actually come to see.
He’d seen a video clip from a previous concert where they covered one of his songs, and he was praying they’d do it again. It was lovely in a haunting-almost-threatening way, and the expression in Geralt’s posture alone was enthralling. He had to see it live.
But Geralt was still absent as the band started to build a song. First Aiden with the beat, then Eskel’s bass, then Lambert with a melody on his electric guitar. It built and built and built to a fever pitch, taking the crowd with it. People were already jumping and screeching. Jaskier had to stand on his seat to see the stage clearly.
Geralt’s voice echoed through the venue, low and closer to a growl than singing, but he was still nowhere to be seen.
Jaskier thought he’d been prepared, but his whole body was covered in goosebumps. He briefly wondered if this was what his friends were feeling when they listened to ASMR.
Geralt remained hidden for the whole first verse, getting the crowd even more excited than Jaskier thought possible, only for the band to go completely silent for a whole measure. When the crowd's screams reached their absolute loudest, Geralt dropped from on top of one of the jumbotrons, landing on one of the horse-sized speakers before launching into the chorus.
Oh fuck, he was even more beautiful in person.
He was… well he was a beast of a man. Jaskier really didn’t have another word for the way his muscles bulged and how lithe and powerful he looked springing from the speaker to join his bandmates on the main stage. His thighs filled out his black, tattered jeans and there were clear faded spots where his muscles strained the fabric too often. The thin black tank he wore did nothing but pretend the man was semi-modest. It was so tight, the only thing left up to the imagination was tan lines and the color of his nipple piercings.
Jaskier was most entranced by his long, white, wavy hair falling past his shoulders. As the show continued and he started to sweat, a lot, it got curlier and curlier at the root. Jaskier wanted to give him a mask and some curl cream, but only after a, uhm, rough night of getting to know each other. He’d heard rumors about Geralt from hitting arenas not long after they’d left. He was quite sure they’d have a great time.
As he focused on the lyrics more and more, he was more inclined to want to wrap Geralt up in a hug and worship every part of him until he felt whole again.
Either he’d been shown the shitty side of the genre, or The Witchers were exceptions to the rule of content. Jaskier was almost moved to tears a few different times.
Finally, about an hour into Jaskier mindlessly feasting his eyes on the front man, Geralt leapt onto another speaker and sat down, breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear.
“You still with us?”
The unholy screech from the crowd left no doubt they were just as excited, if not more so, than when they’d arrived.
“Good! Good..” he trailed off, chuckling as he lowered the mic to take a breath, “We’re gonna slow it down for a minute,” he leaned forward and held the mic away as Eskel shouted something up at him to which he laughed and flipped him off.
“As I was saying, we’re gonna yearn for a minute or two and do a cover. Song by Jaskier called ‘Talk’.”
The crowd lost their shit again, various pride flags popping up throughout the stands.
Geralt chuckled and raised his combat boot, showing off the bi flag colored treads, earning another round of screams. If this is what the grunge-metal scene was like, Jaskier had been missing out his entire life. Sure his fans were sweet and supportive and loving when he’d come out. But this was electric and feral and completely addictive.
Lambert struck the opening chord to Jaskier’s song and the crowd settled to a gentle hum, setting the tone immediately, as if they all knew exactly what was coming.
Geralt closed his eyes as he tapped his thigh with one finger, keeping time before his rumbling baritone hit Jaskier like a freight train.
“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found…”
Jaskier could have collapsed right there. He knew he was staring like a lovesick idiot, but hell, everyone around him was too. When the chorus hit and Eskel came in with a heavy bass line he nearly fell off his chair. Geralt’s intensity raised with the addition of the backup but he didn’t move. He stayed seated, swaying slightly, with his eyes closed as he crooned out the words Jaskier had sobbed as he wrote, broken hearted and miserable.
It was surreal.
Sure he’d seen other covers. Sure they’d been lovely. But he wanted to listen to this and only this as he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He’d never play it again if he could only hear it one more time.
After the last verse Lambert launched into a guitar solo while Geralt jumped off the speaker and meandered to the center of the stage to slot his mic back in it’s stand. He gripped it like a lifeline when Lambert held one last note for as long as his instrument would allow and only started singing the last chorus when it was almost silent.
“I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do
So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you
I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we could do
So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you”
His expression looked hopeless and utterly desperate as he crooned out the last two lines. He let his hair fall to cover his face and Jaskier could just barely hear his panting breath over the sound system as the crowd exploded. Geralt tipped his head back and took two deep breaths before straightening up and getting on with the show but Jaskier was stuck.
He was vaguely aware of someone taking a picture of him, but he really couldn’t care less. The fact that Geralt moved right on to a song called ‘Burn Motherfucker Burn’ didn’t matter either.
Jaskier jumped down from his arena seat, whipping out his phone and sending the band a tweet, because apparently that’s what musicians did now?
“Record it. Please. It’s either that or sing me to sleep every night. You choose.”
He stayed for the rest of the show and walked to his car in a haze. Before he backed out of his spot he checked his phone like always and his heart nearly stopped at the two top notifications.
One public reply: “Both? -G”
And one direct message: “If you’re still here and want to grab a drink, I’m just backstage.”
#listen i have a lot of feelings and the feral bitch took over idk what to tell you#i have done nothing but this for the last three hours#i need to do schoolwork but this bitch needed to get out apparently#geraskier#geraskier meet cute#geraskier modern au#singer geralt#rockstart geralt#grunge-metal geralt#singer jaskier#folk singer jaskier#pop-folk singer jaskier#modern au#music modern au#geraskier music au#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia is a repressed emotional grimey mess and all the alarm bells went off in my head okay#jaskier#jaskier pankratz#jullian alfred pankratz#I might even draw this if i get my school stuff done? maybe?#i havent drawn in years#but what's gonna get me back into it if not thirst and gay fanfic?
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Touch it for Real, Part 2
Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut
Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers
Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader
Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
What you didn't know — what you couldn’t have known was that it wasn’t real. The flush you felt in your skin was real. The sticky sweat that spread over your bed sheets when you tossed and turned was real. The heat of it; the perceptible and tactile fire that spread through your veins felt so physical and solid, you had no way of knowing that this wasn’t real.
Slim fingers.
Fleshy thighs.
Hip bones beneath well worn denim.
Buttons popping with the barest of effort.
And the lips. Oh God, the softness of those lips as they traveled over your very hot skin. You could feel it all.
You never saw his face; you hadn’t needed to. You could smell him everywhere. You knew who this was. You’d know him with your eyes blinded; you’d know him anywhere.
At first you turned away. At first you resisted, but as the fire spread through you, you found yourself turning into him, searching for him, seeking out that connection to fuel the heat.
Why was this happening? Why did you rejoice in it? The longing and the desire had simply become too much for you to deny and now you were the one pulling him into you. You were the one who wrapped your legs around that slim waist and constricted and those sounds from his chest they were...they were…
Those sounds from his mouth, they were—
Screaming.
Laughing.
‘AH HA HA HA AH — YES!’ Rough staccato laughter; so, so loud — so damn loud, it ripped and it tore at your mind and it yanked you up so roughly; up so fast you felt your entire body shaking if not completely falling apart with the speed at which you were pulled.
You opened your eyes into pitch blackness. Your vision took only a second to adjust and you could make out the sliver of dim light from the street lamp outside that peeked through the very top of your curtains.
On your nightstand, pale yellow squared numbers taunted you with 03:42 AM and covering your entire body where you laid on your once so welcoming bed was your bunched up and sweaty comforter. It was heavy. It was everywhere. You felt suffocated by it. Why was it so hard to breathe?
Your comforter. You purchased it because it was pretty. It fit in perfectly with your room decor and it was pale in color enough that the brightly colored stuffed animals you set atop stood out and complimented the subtle pattern. It made you feel at home.
It used to make you feel at home. Now it was making you feel a very different sort of way. Hot and sweaty and flushed all over and now, very mad about all of it.
You could still feel that shaking deep inside your chest and you laid your palm over your forehead to feel for a fever. You swear you could feel the tremble happening inside, though it was fading now, you were sure you still felt that shaking inside of your body.
It was beginning to settle.
You felt another rumble, paired with a loud booming sound that vibrated and shook your wall. The glass of your window quaked and the pale yellow numbers on your nightstand danced in your vision.
‘HAHAHA! I got you asshole!’
03:44 AM
Speakers. Surround sound. Heavy bass. An impressive system at any other time of the day when the sun was out. But right now? When you had been peacefully asleep; when you had been dreaming? Earth shattering booms. Deafening shouts of victory from the idiot with every new explosion that rattled your bones.
You sat up and the comforter stuck to your sweaty skin. It wasn’t even hot in this room, yet this thing clung to you like it was coated in glue. Nearly four in the fucking morning.
You had to work tomorrow. It was the one day a month when you were required to report to the office in person for the staff meeting. And here you were being ripped awake by such a disturbing commotion and goddammit this blanket was hot.
This … thing.
This thing that brought with it images of him and images of, oh god, images of his fingertips and his lips and his, oh god, oh no. No, please not that. Anything but that. Of all the things that were absolutely off limits. Of all the situations that could never happen. Horror. An overwhelming horror; it tasted of shame.
No, no, no, no.
How could this have happened? How could those images be burning into the backs of your eyes? The more your overtired mind tried to make sense of it, the less sense this made. You looked down at the blanket, searching for answers.
Had something about this blanket been ruined?
Was it’s once comforting and innocent essence somehow completely changed on a molecular level and was it now….tainted forever? Because of him? Because of what he brought into your room and depravedly rubbed all over it?
You pushed it away with both hands reaching you pushed and pushed until it sunk down off the foot of your bed and the cool air blew over your hot bare legs. Even the cool air did little to calm the irritation you felt all over your body. It did nothing to cool you off. Your legs were made of pure fire.
He did this. You were sure of it. He brought this evil on you. And now with his room shaking howling laughter you were wide awake and angry at almost 4 am when you had work in the morning; you had to be worth a damn in the morning.
You were up on angry legs with rage pushing you forward and you reached down for the blanket that you didn't even want in your room anymore for all it represented. You hauled it with both hands and took two steps forward toward your closed bedroom door when your forward progress took a quick and southward dive and you fell, tripped up by the wretched blanket when you stepped on a corner instead of on your soft rug.
You could feel the burn on your kneecaps where you collided with the hard floor. You could feel a sting on your left knee that hit the hardest but burned into the carpet and you grunted through the pain to quickly lift yourself back up and gather every other bit of hanging blanket securely inside your arms.
The trek through the living room at such an ungodly hour when every living breathing cell in your body would have rather been asleep felt absolutely crazed. You reached his door, turned the knob just enough for the latch to disengage and with your entire being hurled that motherfucker open and sent it flying.
Oh and it flew. It hit the wall and bounced back hard, bouncing back quickly against your arms that held on securely to the blanket. The noise was shocking. It was a vindicating battle cry.
The commotion startled him. His hands were on the keyboard and a pair of headphones atop of his head and for WHAT, you could hear every single thing happening on his screen in mind deafening stereo surround sound filling up the whole room. You could hear it clearly from your own room and from inside this room it sounded like you were living inside of the subwoofers themselves.
Your rage was somehow louder and it made him spin toward the motion and sound of you at his doorway with a shriek of surprise. His eyes were saucers and his mouth flew open; an unchewed bite of some pink sausage fell out and bounced off his knee onto the floor below his sock covered feet and he was only screaming for a second before he was cursing.
“Shit. Jesus. Fuck. Ohh my God, Fucking Hell, oh my heart. Oh it hurts. Oh Christ I’m dying.” He was clutching at his chest. His headphones, the useless things slipped off his head and toppled down his shoulder following the sausage chunk and you could see them fall all the way down to the floor. The cord, which had not been plugged in quickly followed and pooled into a puddle at his feet.
“Do you have any idea ... what time it is?” Your voice sounded foreign to your ears. Had you always sounded so burly? You felt like an angry mountain lion ready to go in for the kill.
His eyes were closed up tight and he inhaled a deep breath before cracking them open to look at you through the heavy panicked breaths.
“Ohhh,” he moaned as his breathing calmed and the shock faded with each slow breath he took. “Ohhhhh,” he repeated softer, to himself.
“Ohhh…” this time he was looking at you and his eyebrows furrowed together as he did it. “Oh—whoa, whoa, whoa, you look….super fucking crazy right now. What is happening?”
His hands were up in confusion; in defense, and you were moving forward taking the stupid blanket and roughly shoving it toward him you hurled it right at his face and watched it hit as hard as a soft cottony blanket could manage to hit — it was more of a gentle nudge really, and then it fell down, taking his stupid glasses off his face and burrying them somewhere within the fluff where the blanket fell.
He was too confused to catch it. He had absolutely no idea what he had done to defile and destroy the sacred sanctity of your sleep.
He had no idea.
“What are you doing with this? Why are you doing this? Why are you giving me your blanket? Where are your pants? Is your leg bleeding? Tell me what is happening!”
“You!” You hurled a finger up and pointed it in his face. His eyes widened, crossed to look at the finger that clearly accused him of something just off the end of his nose and then looked back into your face in utter confusion.
“You—“ you inhaled to survive and your mouth hung open as the words, the accusations you had for him, the truth of what he had done to you, what he really hadn’t done, but what you were certain you felt happening in your sleep, in that dream, those words they stopped entirely as you looked at his face. His very real face, the very real pink cheeks and confused eyes of your roommate Byun Baekhyun who had absolutely no idea that you had just been disturbed during and then disturbed by a vivid and confusing sex dream about him.
Oh god.
You couldn’t say that.
You would rather be dead right here than say those words with your own mouth.
This had never happened before. He was a real person, you had never experienced a dream like that involving a real person. Not someone you knew like you knew Baekhyun. Not someone you lived with and had to keep on living with. The more you replayed the words that refused to come out of your mouth inside your head the more your sanity slowly returned to your mind.
“Your headphones are not plugged in.” You shook your finger in his face. Using every bit of anger you had built up on the walk across the living room, every bit of uncomfortable sweaty stinging ick you felt all over your whole body about the whole thing and you shot those death lasers out of your eyeballs and you focused them right on his face, right there in the center of his stupid forehead. That’s where you put it. That’s where you glared and that’s where you wished every little bit of comeuppance that he had coming to him would land. Right there on that head.
“Wha?” He said and his stupid pink lips frowned downward into a pout. Against your will, you watched them as they moved and then quickly focused your pointing anger back up onto the center of his forehead. It took a lot.
He was looking down at his feet and reached through the big fluffy blanket that covered him from the waist down to the floor to find the headphones that had landed somewhere within it all.
He pulled them up and kept pulling, following the cord until he reached the end and he held the male end of his headphones with his fingertips as he looked down at them with a scoff and a small laugh.
“Oh shit,” he chuckled to himself, “huh...would you look at that?” As if absolutely nothing at all mattered in the world and this was just a humorous little hiccup in his day. At 4 am on a work day.
The audacity of the man. The absolute shameless audacity.
“Would you look at that?!?” The volume of your own voice surprised you. You screamed it. Right at the top of your lungs and he jumped in his seat, closed his eyes up tight and clutched at his chest again with a pained wince on that face. Immediately after you’d done it you felt a pang inside. Was your anger really caused by being awoken? What were you really so damn mad about here?
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered to himself when his eyes opened again.
Then he directed them at you with his eyebrows furrowed and that glare right on your face.
“Jesus. Christ. Woman.” he half spoke again with his eyes on you and his face pointing directly at yours with each new word he spoke. You felt unjustly rebuked. The seriousness on his voice closed up your gaping mouth and you pulled your head back. Part of you wanted to grab his hair and pull it, demanding reparations and apologies and justice for his many 4 AM crimes against you.
“I mean...Jesus. Christ.” His head nodded to emphasize just how ridiculous he was now finding your current outburst and you felt the heaviness deep inside your arms as you sagged on your feet and wanted to give up your fight against gravity. Part of you knew you were justified in your outrage. How could you be losing this fight so easily to him? Maybe...maybe you were just tired.
“I’m just...so tired, Baek.” Your complaint came out as a sad little whine and your head fell back as you closed up your eyes. Suddenly feeling like you could drop right here at his feet and sleep curled up in your wretched comforter.
He must have gotten up. You could feel his arms on your shoulders and you were steered somewhere within his room. Your legs didn’t feel like moving but there were some calming circles being rubbed on your back that felt too nice to resist.
“I’ll turn it off, Bug. You can sleep, I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I was sleeping so nicely.” You mumbled and you were in a bed that didn’t smell like you. “I was dreaming.” All at once the memory and that smell brought back a strange yet familiar feeling.
“Was it a good dream?” His voice sounded far away.
“Mhmm,” you hummed and you let yourself drift. You let yourself curl into the mattress that you were laid over and gave in to an unimaginable comfort that pulled you under too easily.
If he had any more questions you did not know, but something called your sleepy mind back for one more word. Something asked perhaps. You couldn’t be sure what it was, only your single word response slipped from your lips.
“You,” you told the questions, before disappearing entirely.
Your alarm clock was ringing. It was a sufferingly familiar sound that could rip you awake from the deepest sleeps. Today it sounded far away, but that tune was so ingrained into your mind that you immediately opened your eyes and stuck a hand out to look for your phone to stop it.
Only your hand reached and found nothing. You moved further and bumped against something hard like a table that should not have been there.
“Mmm,” a soft moan sounded out from somewhere below and when you finally opened your eyes and searched your ceiling, the layout was definitely different.
This was not your room.
This was not your bed.
“Don't you work today?” You followed the sound of his voice and found it coming from somewhere curled up on the floor beside the bed underneath your comforter. The one you’d abandoned last night. The memories flooded in an instant.
“Yeah. I’m getting up. You can have your bed back, Peanut.”
Peeling back his blankets for a quick escape you saw your own bare shins; knees; thighs; all the way up to your underwear. You’d fallen asleep with only a t-shirt on last night. But there was a new addition. You saw a flesh colored bandage stuck to your knee with a brown-red stain in the center of the gauze pad. You paused to look down at it, a thousand conflicting inclinations running through you in a single breath and not a spare minute to dwell on any of them because your alarm was still ringing and Baekhyun had turned over and peeked his face out from under your blanket.
You could not explain the urgency to leave. You freely loitered near him and around him constantly without even a second thought.
Although you had never done it in such a state of undress. This could have explained the rush. How much would he see of you? How many flaws could he make out with his sleepy eyes. How long had it taken him to apply the bandage last night? Did he use his bare fingertips to softly dab ointment on your wound or did he merely slap on a bandaid with a rough palm. He wouldn't have lightly blown on it to dry the medicine would he?
Something was wrong with you.
These were not important questions for you to be asking. You needed to get out of his room before he saw any more. Perhaps the dream had done much more damage than you had feared.
You could have stepped down off the bed beside where he laid. It would have only required an extra step to get over him. Instead you climbed down to the foot of his bed and without a look back you were out of his room under the compulsion of the ringing alarm and you surrendered willingly.
Back inside your room you could breathe freely and deeply. You could indulge in your routine of getting ready for the day and you took your time to get your hair and your makeup looking nice. It was cold out so you opened for the thick winter leggings to get you through the commute without freezing to death and you were out of your door just in time to stop for a morning coffee.
The day dragged. You were probably just out of practice, having worked from home for so long that having to make an active attempt to look busy enough to justify your paycheck with so many witnesses in the office had you feeling burnt out by lunch time.
You went for a walk to avoid awkward small talk with your co-workers even though it meant you didn't have enough time to actually eat any real food before your break was over. Still it was preferable to the alternative. Namely the meddling old women who, every time they saw you had some new neighbor’s friend’s son, or some doctor’s nephew they just had to set you up with.
So what if you were single. So what if you were too young and too pretty to be alone. There wasn’t some invisible timer counting down to your swift and imminent demise just because you didn't have a boyfriend. You were pretty sure that timer was running for everyone despite the relationship status on their facebook profile. And you did not mention your facebook profile to Baekhyun because he would probably flip out, hack into your computer and delete the whole thing. The dramatic man. How else were you supposed to see what a mess your high school friend’s lives were shaping up to be.
When it was finally time to go home for the day you were more exhausted than you thought was normal for someone still walking around on her own two legs. You were the angry sort of hungry that made you annoyed with every single sound you heard on the subway and not even your headphones in your ears playing your favorite songs eased your anxiety.
You glared at the woman across the aisle with the unruly kids who refused to wear their masks right. You glared at the old man with his nose sticking out of the top of his and you tightened your own mask to your face and took a step back and away from the group of youths that eyed you up and down as they moved through the doors.
You’d never before been so happy to open the door to your apartment and be greeted by the pleasant hum of a refrigerator that you knew had to have at least one tasty thing you could snack on to take the edge off of your mood.
Inside was bright. It was cleaned recently — You’re welcome — It was sparkling and gleaming and well organized and it was full of a multitude of raw ingredients that could be chopped and sliced and diced and cooked up to make a wonderfully healthy and fulfilling meal for whoever had the energy and ambition to embark on such a feat.
You peered inside at the bottles of water in the door. The sticks of butter and the bottles of sauce mocked you. You were pretty sure raw eggs cracked into your open mouth would give you some sort of infection that would require you to leave the house again this month so you opened the drawer where you were sure you saw a cheese stick hiding inside last night.
There it was.
It was white and bouncy. It was salty and individually wrapped and it was calling your name in sweet a cheesy joyous chorus of promised deliciousness.
It was yours.
It’s most amazing feature wasn’t the chewiness or the cold chill it had from sitting for weeks in a refrigerator. No, the best thing, and you mean the absolute very best thing about this single plastic wrapped cheese stick was that it existed.
Exactly when you needed it most.
Feet shuffled behind you. Baekhyun would be waking up from whatever napping schedule he’d accidentally tricked his body clock into adopting and he would be stumbling into the kitchen for a drink of water.
You unwrapped the cheese stick and stuck the end between your lips. Instantly rewarded by the soft way it gave when you bit down. You took the tiniest bite and you chewed carefully and thoughtfully. Perhaps your eyes rolled back and closed and perhaps you might have even experienced something akin to out of body experience of pure pleasure as you chewed, swallowed, and opened your mouth again for another bite. A real one this time.
What you hadn’t anticipated, was the cruelty of the universe that had allowed you to live this many years on Earth only to end up here in this exact moment with this man whose home you also lived in. You hadn’t expected the crushing reality of watching that man sleepily stumble into you with his eyes half closed and open his big mouth as wide as it would go and sink that mouth down directly onto the entire exposed part of your cheese stick, of which maybe 85% had been exposed, and chomp down ruthlessly with nearly the entire thing vanishing away before your eyes.
You watched him chewing noisily with his mouth open and bits of white cheese bumbled around inside before he let out a noisy laugh complete with a snort that sent bits of cheese flying across your once clean kitchen.
“Haha,” he said as he swallowed, “your face.”
He was laughing at you.
He ate your cheese; well, most of your cheese. He was laughing now, harder. The longer you stood staring at him in absolute shock at what he had just done the harder he laughed and you could feel the countdown happening inside of your chest. A number for each heart beat that seemed to be speeding up toward his death.
He had no idea. He never ever did.
This man was so close to death and he was giggling now and reaching for the big bottle of orange juice that sat inside the fridge.
He lifted it up to his lips and drank from the bottle, not even bothering with a glass. He drained half of its contents and when he pulled the bottle down, some things, tiny and white - mini specks of your cheese floated around inside the orange liquid.
You saw bright white nothingness.
You would like to go on the record now, and plead insanity.
In your mind's eye, everything was just all white.
Like the afterlife in movies. Except far less peaceful but equally unexplainable.
Violence may not be the answer. But you really had very little memory of this.
You had flashes of it. His deafening screams and your hand reaching into a bag of cheese puffs for handfuls that you shoved into his gaping mouth. You don’t even know where you got them from. They just appeared suddenly and they crushed so easily into soft powder as you pressed them between his teeth. The powder coated the surface of his skin around his mouth. It flew in the air too as he screamed. You were covered in it. Your hands were stained bright orange. The color of your wicked crimes.
The whiteness returned. Then more flashes of your crimes. Your mind touched on images of the sticky drops of orange juice that fell one by one from his hair that laid completely flat, lacquered to the top of his head. Then, his cries of pain with your knees dug into his chest and both of your bright orange hands squeezed tightly around his neck. The coughing when you pressed down harder in the middle of his neck and the eventual sensation of him fighting back. The urge to live must be strong in him. Why did he resist this so much? Just die already. Why fight the inevitable? If not done by you, surely some other person would do it.
When you came to, you were inside of your bedroom packing a bag full of clothes and stuffed animals. You felt that this was probably your get-away bag, and that meant he was probably dead.
Drowned in two ounces of backwash filled orange juice and lungs stuffed with brightly colored cheese flavored* puffs (*contains no real cheese.)
You had a list happening inside of your head. Things you had to do before you left this place forever and never returned. A strange calm had washed over you; probably brought on by shock.
First, you had to pack this bag. You had stuffed it full of overcoats. Your winter coat with the pink polka dots. The fluffy yellow puffer jacket you got as a gift from your best friend. Your rain jacket in case it got wet in hell. Second, you would go into his room and clear his search history. It was something you had always promised you would do for him and he had promised to do the same for you. After that, you would call the police from a pay phone on the corner of the block to anonymously report the crime.
Your bag was full. Too full to fit the brightly colored pink bunny even though it was a tiny thing. You pushed and shoved, squeezing it in between the layers of coats until you were sure the seam of your bag was about to pop if you tried to zip it closed.
You still had your toiletries to pack. This would never do. How could you pack a get-away bag without your favorite shampoo.
A flood of memories came to you. Your favorite shampoo and handing the bottle with your eyes covered to Baekhyun as he showered. All at once, that steady and all consuming calm wavered and you felt the first hot tears building. Stinging and burning as they crested and spilled over your lashes onto your cheeks.
Your lips were stuck in a deep frown and you did your best to inhale through a stuffed up nose.
“My poor Peanut,” you said into the hollow empty space of your lonely bedroom. You’d have to venture into his bathroom to get your shampoo. Possibly walking past his lifeless corpse which you were pretty sure you left somewhere in between the kitchen and the living room.
A maniac. You were a heartless monster. The remorse you now felt, which could very well help you in court, coated you from head to toe and you cried openly when you pulled your bedroom door open and took your first step out of your room.
Shampoo and search history. These things were your destination.
But a sound coming from somewhere deep in the kitchen threw off your steps and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise with the unexpectedness of it.
More than just a sound, you could smell something too. Was that sizzling? Had you accidentally turned the stove on and now your whole apartment was on fire? Was this how you could get rid of the body?
No. You had to get a grip now. That was going too far. You could understand homicide but desecration of a corpse? Ick. That kinda shit was for sickos.
You focused your energy on your destination and took three big steps to cross the living room and placed a hand on the door knob of his room.
The knob clicked noisily when you turned it too quickly and you heard a shuffle coming from the kitchen. A shuffle and then a scrape and you turned at the sound.
“Hey Bug, food’s ready. Come eat. I made your favorite.”
You froze on your feet with your eyes wide open, nose too stuffy to breathe so your mouth hung wide open as well. With tears streaming down your face, made fresh again by the sight of him standing in the kitchen with a white towel draped around his neck, clean wet hair, and a frying pan and spatula in his hand, you gasped.
You had never been quite so relieved to see the sight of your stupid roommate. Overcome, you dropped the bag you carried at your feet and rushed to where he stood with arms raised and the dish he had just finished cooking elevated and you reached for his body with your arms outstretched. When you felt his warmth you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him in for a tight hug.
“Uhh,” he said softly, flinching upon contact and freezing up but first lifting the hot pan high enough to remove any danger of burning you with it. “Why are you crying?”
You squeezed tighter and buried your face in his chest. You’d get his shirt wet with tears and with snot but you didn't care. He was okay. Your overwhelming guilt for your behavior towards him was so thick you had a hard time not sobbing harder when you felt the awkward steps he took to set the hot pan down and free his hands and then that first warmth of the palm of his hand that landed on your back.
When the other hand joined and slipped around your shoulder a quiet cry got caught up inside the back of your throat and you heard a warning sound somewhere. Because the warning did not exist in this realm of reality he did not hear it and another step into you brought his arms tighter around your shoulders and when you felt those hands move gently over your back the warning sound blared up hot and terrifying.
You and him did not do this. This was not something you had ever done with Baekhyun. Sure, light touches sometimes. Plenty, even. Hell, you playfully smacked him for something new and annoying every single day. You weren’t exactly scared of him, but you had never hugged him before and you sure as fuck didn't ever hold him.
“Bug?” His voice was calling you. You had an inkling that it might have been the second or third time and you pulled back from him. His hands released you the second he felt your retreat and you looked at the spot where you’d mashed your whole face into his shirt wincing at all the face shaped wet spots you saw there.
He didn't seem bothered by it and you inhaled a deep trembling breath with a meaningless nod of your head at him. Whatever had happened didn’t matter. Everything was fine. Everything was over and it was okay. He was okay too.
He offered a small smile and turned to get two bowls to fill with the food he had made.
It was fried rice. Simple, no frills fried rice with a fried egg on top and just enough spice to make it interesting but not enough to activate any more water works. It was his favorite and you were pretty sure he didn't actually know how to make any other dishes. But hadn’t he just said he made your favorite?
“Baek, This isn’t my favorite. This is your favorite.”
He placed a bowl in front of where you sat and he lifted a quizzical eyebrow with a small tick of his head.
“No, it’s not my favorite. It’s your favorite. You make it all the time. And that’s why I made it now. Because it's your favorite.”
As he spoke, he pointed back and forth between you and the bowl of rice with his spoon. As if he was teaching a class on something you obviously didn’t know the first thing about.
“But I only make it all the time because it's your favorite, Peanut.”
You picked up your spoon and mixed the egg into the rice and began eating quickly out of necessity. You were about to pass out from hunger at this point.
He was watching you eat with that confused look on his face and he hadn’t touched his rice yet.
“Well whose favorite is it then?”
You shrugged and swallowed another bite. You were half finished with your bowl already and Baekhyun looked down and scooped up the egg from the top of his own rice with his spoon, leaning forward to plop it down on top of your remaining rice.
“Please tell me you at least like eggs on top.”
“Doesn’t everybody?” You remarked flippantly and you mixed again, feeling so much more human now that you had some real food in your stomach.
He was leaning back in his chair, fingertips over his face as he lightly massaged at the space between his eyebrows and you giggled to yourself with a mouth full of rice.
“I thought I killed you, Baekhyun.”
You heard him snort out a laugh and he quickly covered his mouth with both of his hands before he spat out all over the table. You yourself had to cover your mouth to keep your rice in and you laughed in a painful stifled way to keep from choking on the food in your mouth.
“You made me eat so many fucking cheese puffs I’m not even hungry right now.” He wheezed through his words and you saw him wiping at his eyes while you forced yourself to swallow before rice flew out of your nose.
He was holding his stomach as he laughed and the tight pained wince on his face only made you laugh harder.
You had eaten all you could and Baekhyun abandoned his food before he even started due to a certain cheese puff armed psychopath.
You’d stood to clear away the plates when you heard the hum of his phone vibrating on the table. You’d made your way into the kitchen when his voice piped up from where he was seated at the table staring down at whatever he had just received on his phone.
“Hey, uhh...h-how should I respond to this girl?”
“Girl? Baekhyun are you chatting with someone?” You perked up, instantly way more interested in what was happening on his phone than washing these dishes and you quickly rounded the corner back into the dining room to find out more.
“Oh wait, nevermind, I think...I don’t think she’s serious.” His voice weakened when his phone vibrated again and you’d reached a spot where you could clearly see the messages he had just received.
From Vixxxen18 again. You rolled your eyes hard enough for them to ache just seeing that familiar screen name.
“Ugh, this bitch again,” you said in a disgusted voice and you saw the flinch in his shoulders. He darkened a shade and you quickly grabbed the phone to steady it so you could clearly see what she wanted this time.
‘Hey honey, DTF tonight?’
You read the message out loud and he held his hands over his face and squirmed in his seat.
“Peanut do you know what DTF means?”
“Yes. I know what it means.” He interrupted you before you could get the whole sentence out. His ears were pink. You heard the clench of his jaw muffle his words as he spoke.
Her next message you didn’t read out-loud.
‘Spot me 50 for gas and I’ll come over’
“Gas doesn’t cost fifty dollars,” you scowled under your breath and your fingers were typing before you had a chance to second think.
‘Shouldn’t we get to know each other a little bit first?’
Her response came quickly and made your blood boil.
‘What makes you think I want to know you’
“Oh I’m going to kick her ass,” you said right before the phone was plucked out of your hands so fast you still moved your thumbs as you typed in the air, ready to give this bitch a piece of your mind.
“Settle down, Cheese Puffs, she's actually not that bad most of the time,” he said and he was closing out the messaging program quickly before you could say anything else to literally the worst human being you’d ever had a two second conversation with.
Your breathing was heavy and you must have had a look in your eyes that made him uncomfortable because he was reaching down to grab your hand and he tugged lightly toward the living room sofa. He was swiping with his other hand on his phone again.
“Here, I have some matches on the dating profile you made me. Why don't we have a look through them and find someone who’s ass you don't want to kick.”
He plopped down with a huff and you quickly sat down beside him, leaning well against his arm so you could see his screen clearly.
“God, you’re so mean today. What’s gotten into you? Ever since you woke up from that dream last night you’ve been ready to kill anyone who moves.”
You’d taken over the scrolling and found yourself lost in the freedom of judging the girls on his phone screen as he mused about what a grump you were.
Boring. Bland. Brainless. Vapid. Ugh.
As you flipped through them you not so quietly voiced how much you hated every one of them. Sure, for someone they could have been perfect but for him, they were not. His complaints about you went silent and as he watched the scrolling.
At last you found someone who seemed to fit some sort of idealized image you had of the perfect girl for him and you stopped scrolling instantly with a quiet gasp. He wasn’t saying anything about her though and you looked up excitedly at his face expecting him to be reading the profile she had carefully written, or looking through the pictures you oh so slowly scrolled past but instead of looking down at the phone his eyes were just watching you.
It was an odd and calm observation of only your face. And when you grabbed ahold of his eyes with your searching ones you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head down, pointing with the angle of your face at his phone screen so he could see her, so he could see Mia who lived only 5 miles away from him and had seen all of the animes that he liked and played the same kinds of computer games he played and was honest to god, cute as a damn button. Perfect! You wanted to squeal.
“Peanut,” you whispered and his eyes widened and his eyebrows danced on his face as he finally, finally looked down in his lap where the phone sat.
But the screen was now black. It had timed out. You clicked on a button on the side and it prompted him to log in again and what was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he unlocking it already? You grabbed his hand and his eyes glanced down where you touched his fingertips, carefully tracing with his index finger over the pattern he used to unlock his phone and it came back to life — the smiling, lovely image of Mia who lived only 5 miles away and was just absolutely perfect.
“Bug,” He said softly as he looked down at his phone screen and your smile was naturally wide as he watched each image fly across his screen. The anticipation of his reaction was killing you. He had to be as excited about this as you were. He at least seemed to be paying attention to the pictures this time.
But he wasn't squealing or even smiling about her. The silence on his side got you talking again. A quick nervous sort of talking to fill up the quiet. “She’s cute. And she's nice, I can feel it. And she's perfect for you. Let’s message her.”
You lifted a finger to your chin and thrust your eyes into the air to think. You thought back to some of the opening lines you’d been fed by the men you dated and you opened the window to send a message to Mia from Baekhyun.
“Bug,” he said again, even quieter than he had called before and it stood out to you that he had been trying for a while to get your attention now and you were so distracted with how much fun this was that you hadn’t really acknowledged him. You were being presumptuous. Just because you liked her didn’t necessarily mean he did. It even occurred to you that maybe you were being downright rude.
So you looked at him. Lifted your eyebrows up and rested the phone back down on his knee cap so he would say what he wanted to say already. You braced for the rejection of the cutest girl in his list of matches.
But instead of speaking he just looked at you and you slowly began to hear the actual ticking of the clock on the wall across the room from where you both sat. After much too long his eyes fell to look down the phone in your hand and you heard the smallest, softest scoff from his chest and he closed his eyes once with a long sigh.
And then he was nodding his head with his eyes closed up tight. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, send her a message. If you say she’s perfect, then she’s perfect.”
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth @beg0neth0t420
#Baekhyun#Exo#Baekhyun fic#Exo fic#Baekhyun fanfic#Exo fanfic#baekhyun smut#exo smut#baekhyun fluff#exo fluff#baekhyun exo
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Pleasantly Surprising
Pairing: Gerard x Reader
Word count: ~ 4 000
Genre: Fluff / Enemies to lovers
Summary: (Y/n) meets a nice group of guys in a concert.
Warning: Blood, but no violence or wounds description.
Requested on Wattpad
a/n: This one if for you blood kink bastards </3
(Y/p) = Your pronouns
Feeling the cold night air filling my lungs with a faint smell of grass is much better than the smoky and sweaty, heavy air present among the public that gets worse near the mosh pit. I lean back against the brick wall, feeling the cold surface through the thick jeans of my jacket, digging into my shoulder blades as I try to control my breathing, quietly watching the band leaving the stage to give place to another.
My throat feels dry, aching the slightest after I swallow around the sharp and cold breaths, so I look around for a stand to buy at least a soda, ankling over to the nearest one. The line isn't actually that long – thank hell –, but that doesn't prevent a random bastard from trying to cut in line.
"Hey, what in the fuck you think you're doing?" I raise an eyebrow, pulling them back by their collar and they just look at me with this sulky face, bottom lip sticking out and lip ring glowing lightly under the reduced lighting. "No cutting in!"
"Says who?" they retort bitterly. "What you gonna do about it?"
"Aw, bold, aren't we?" I raise an eyebrow, glancing down and... the motherfucker is wearing school clothes, lacking the tie and shirt untucked. Private school. "What are you? Not like the other kids? The line isn't even that long, stupid."
"Fuck off," they sigh, shrugging out of my grip and harshly fixing their clothes.
"Frank– Fuck, Frank, the hell, can't we leave you alone for a single second?" A random voice suddenly interrupts our interaction before a tall person approaches, a motherly and worried air lacing their gaze. They look from me to Frank before exhaling, raising an eyebrow, at which Frank shrugs. "I'm sorry for whatever Frank did, he–"
"Fuck, no, Ray!" Frank cuts them off, "you're not playing the good guy here! I was just trying to–"
"Trying to cut in the line, yeah, very nice of you, isn't it?" I roll my eyes, twisting my mouth. At least he isn't lying, but is he stupid or something? Why would he try to convince us what he was trying to do was alright?
It looks like Frank is going to argue for a second, but ends up just groaning through gritted teeth and looking away with a sigh and tense shoulders.
Ray doesn't look any amused, only observing Frank like who looks at a puzzle after having tried to solve it for weeks without success. They shake their head, turning to me instead. "I'm Ray, he/him, nice to meet you. Sorry for Frank, what he did is... unfortunately usual."
I observe him looking at him from head to toes. School uniform just like Frank's, tucked shirt, loose tie. "Hi. I'm (y/n), (y/p). And don't worry, I would've done the same," I breathe, looking away from the two to hand the person behind the counter the money after pointing to the drink I want.
"What?" Frank gasps. "You would've done the same and still acted all like that towards me?"
I roll my eyes, sighing. "Me doing it doesn't mean I like being affected by it." I grab the change, shoving it in my pocket then step aside for Frank and Ray, cracking the can open.
"Y'know–" Frank crosses his arms over his chest, throwing his nose in the air, "–my momma says that you should treat the others as you want to be–"
"Aw, honey, so you'd like me cutting in the line right in front of you? Shamelessly?" I raise an eyebrow at him, unable to hold back a grin when his face gets bright red, hands balling into fists. Not gonna lie, it's kinda cute how he twists his mouth. Frank is about to curse when Ray is shoving a couple of cans into his hands – a sigh leaves his lips instead. "Two for each?" I question and sip on my drink.
Frank smirks, looking at me with humor. "Yeah, wanna watch me drink them at once?"
Ray rolls his eyes at Frank, shoving him out of the way after noticing there were people behind them. "We're actually with two other friends. Are you alone here? Do you wanna come along?" He smiles, ignoring Frank's complaints, so I opt for doing the same.
"I guess that'd be nice," I hum, shrugging. Otherwise, I'd be going home right now and Ray actually seems nice... I mean, Frank does too, but I'm not feeding his ego.
The other two stand against a brick wall when we find them, both quietly chatting to each other until seeing us approaching. The first one doesn't exactly react, more interested in the can Ray hands him, but the second, greasy punk, hums questioningly, straightening their posture as taking a good look at me almost like I did to Frank earlier. "And who are you?"
"(Y/n), (y/p)," I mutter, looking at them from over the rim of the can, taking a sip of my drink.
"Found lying in the trash when I approached," Frank adds, but doesn't seem so confident after I playfully shove him aside.
"Gerard, he/they," Gerard replies, eyes never averting away from mine. What is he, kind of a gang leader? Got a hell of an ego, though a bit differently from Frank – I'm noticing a pattern here, huh. "Mikey, he/him," he continues, nodding to the other guy.
I throw my empty can in a trashcan before leaning in towards Gerard. He tries to escape the touch, but he's against a wall, there's nowhere to go. How cute. "Belleville High," I say, finally able to make out what the small black letters embroidered on the chest area says, and step away, allowing Gerard to breathe. "Isn't it that private school? Catholic one? Wow, who'd know I'd find BH students here!"
"Stereotyping, are we?" Frank raises an eyebrow. It's impossible holding back a smile at him.
"No, never," I chuckle. "It's just a... rare occurrence. You came here right after school?"
"Not really." Ray shakes his head. "Just didn't have the opportunity to change. Good thing it's Friday, tho," he chuckles humorlessly and I nod in a silent agreement.
"And where do you study?" Frank takes a better look at my face. "If you study, that is."
I scoff, but don't reply just yet. Mikey is the most tidied up out of the four whereas Gerard has his tie loose around his neck, shirt untucked, blazer all wrinkled. "Of course I study, dumbass!" I glare. "But I'm in the public school near the park. But I've seen you before." I nod towards Gerard. "Just don't know where."
Gerard's eyes narrow. "Are you sure?"
"It's not always that I see a greasy vampire looking around, so yeah."
A silence hovers between us for a moment, both of us staring at each other until he feigns unamusement, looking away – I smile with a stupid pride swelling in my chest.
The night ends with us exchanging numbers after a solid hour of joking around and throwing sarcastic insults at each other. Teasing Gerard was particularly fun because he often ran away from the whole joking or at least tried to and even Mikey laughed when it failed, though sometimes succeeding when Frank finally managed to get the spotlight on himself. Ray is sweet, despite being the perfect example for 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but can actually kill you.'
Gerard got my attention, to be honest.
Saturday and Sunday go by quite slowly and thankfully texting the guys every five minutes doesn't make it as depressing as usual. Texting Gerard isn't the same as texting Frank – who replies a text to each word I send him –, however. Gerard often replies with a word or a vague comment and guess what? I'm only more interested.
No Gerard manages to slip between my thoughts during school, but it ends up happening as soon as I step past the gates. Belleville high, isn't it? Shitty elite, but they don't really seem to be like that... let's see if that wasn't just great acting. That's not even a mile away from here. I look down the street, the direction opposite to where I would usually go. It won't hurt to say hi, right? Not to mention I've got nothing to do for the rest of the day.
Belleville High's classes finish about ten minutes later compared to my school's, so I don't bother walking too fast, but not slow enough to let my palms get clammy or overthink anything. Amazing how I can feel like this about people I only met once. Okay, whatever, take a deep breath because I guess I know these curls.
"Look at who we have here!" I throw an arm around Frank's neck, interrupting whatever they were doing and attracting wide eyes towards me. Turns out I found them earlier than expected, hanging out in the park.
"Damn, are you everywhere?" Frank raises an eyebrow at me and presses his lips together, though never stepping away. Blood?
"Who knows?" I joke. "Also..." I trail off, only now taking a good look at them. "Man, what in the hell fucking happened to you guys? Seriously–" I yank a paper off Frank's back, sighing at the 'kick me' written across it and hand it to him, shaking my head. What fucking idiot did this? How the hell did they even get into a fight? It doesn't seem like they were fighting each other.
Frank groans poorly, wadding the paper into a ball and tossing it at the nearby trash can. He's got a few scratches above his eyebrows and blood trailing down the corner of his lips. Mikey and Gerard are probably in the best state out of the four – Gerard got blood trailing down his nose and same for Mikey, though on opposite sides and Mikey's cheek is smeared with blood. I can't say the same about Ray... I don't know how he's not even wincing with all that blood trailing down his face.
"Well," Mikey breathes, bringing a hand to the back of his head, "you can say that–"
"Why do you even want to know?" Gerard steps forward, hands clenched into fists by his sides. "You got nothing to do with it, okay?"
"Aw," I breathe a chuckle. So he wants things to happen like this? But does he have the nerve to keep it? I may not have known him for long, but the attitude is clearly foreign, unmatching. "And what, baby? You lost, didn't you? And you're a fucking sore loser!"
"I just don't see why you should know." He twists his mouth, looking at me uninterested, but it doesn't take long until he's looking at me with these eyes, irises barely seen, eyebrows scrunched close. "And don't talk to me like that! Maybe it would even be better if you fucked off and left us alone, don't you think?"
Man, he talks a lot. Too much. No wonder why he's in such a state. Maybe he'll shut up if I...
"Holy..." Frank trails off with a quiet chuckle and I'm certain Gerard would have glared at him if he wasn't processing what just happened.
Meanwhile, Mikey and Ray stare at me with wide eyes – as wide as Gerard's, but they're not as petrified as Gerard is, for sure, only with hesitant, unsure grins on their faces. I suppress the urge to laugh at Gerard, instead more focused on rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to get rid of the salty and metallic taste.
A quiet sound comes from Gerard as he finally moves, maybe a groan, not sounding really comfortable. He brings a hand up to his lips. The perfect trail of almost dry blood is now smudged, following the direction I licket it to, having the blood smeared across his chin and bottom lip. "Ugh, ugh, ugh," he groans, frantically cleaning his lips and chin with the back of his wrist, against the sleeve of his blazer. "What the fuck? You're gross!"
I roll my eyes with a sigh. "Man, I wonder why I thought being an asshole could be solved."
"Eh, trust me, he isn't normally like this," Ray says with a shrug, looking at Gerard like if he was a chained angry dog even after receiving a glare.
No one gives Gerard's tantrum much attention as we soon sit down on the grass and change the subject before we can notice. Surprisingly, Gerard sits down next to me. Even more surprisingly, he leans closer at some point and whispers, "well, look at who's the vampire now."
Saying Gerard's words got stuck in my head would be an understatement. Maybe it's a nightmare, maybe it's not, but it does get me randomly blushing or stupidly grinning during random times of the day. Nonetheless, school the following day does help a bit with cleaning my head a little.
After a few hours of staring at blackboards, the setting changes to staring at records hanging on the walls and it's honestly better. Incoherent, loud chatter being changed to music of my choice is a lot better, even if I need to talk to a customer now and then.
"This is the place I told you about. I've only been here once, but it seems good," a voice says from the outside, but I don't look up from my homework.
"Never been here," someone else says. A pause follows then their footsteps sound clearer and I sigh, shoving my things on the space under the counter.
"Hello, good afternoon," I say automatically, holding back a groan at how my eraser insists on falling and grabbing it fast. "How can I help you?" I finally look up just to freeze. And the four have the same reaction, to be honest. "I knew I had seen you before," I say to Gerard.
"What a small world!" Frank approaches, immediately narrowing his eyes and throwing his nose in the air as looking over to me. "So you're not a rebel who only wanders around and goes to free concerts during the night and stalks us?" He raises an eyebrow, looking around the place, inspecting the shelves full of records and CDs.
"So you only got one set of clothes?" I mock, staring at his school uniform.
Frank exhales, shoulders dropping. "We just got here from school." He motions vaguely to his messenger bag and I nod, humming, not like it matters a lot.
While we talk, Ray and Mikey wander around, talking quietly to each other and sometimes taking a record in hand, but Gerard... he stands there awkwardly, observing Frank and I with a lost gaze. What is he doing? Trying to act all cool like last time? Or doesn't know how to react?
"Hello," I greet, which sounds more like a question. Frank turns around to look at him, apparently understanding Gerard as much as I do.
Gerard presses his lips together and steps forward, also leaning against the counter. "You didn't mention you work here."
"Didn't have a reason to." I shrug.
The corner of his lips twitch and he's holding eye contact until sighing. "Okay, whatever. Got anything new on Misfits or Pumpkins? Also, Bauhaus." He glances at me, black strands falling over his eyes for a moment before he's pulling them away. Cute.
"Of course." I grin, moving to the cabinets behind the counter.
Frank eventually darts off as I show Gerard the records and cassettes like he wanted. I glance around to make sure Frank is paying attention to whatever Mikey is telling him and Ray before I turn to Gerard again, grinning lightly. "Y'know," I mutter, leaning forward with my elbows over the counter. "I've got passes for a bar concert tonight. Wanna come?"
"What do you mean by passes?" His eyes never avert from the records – he runs his fingers over them delicately, examining each of them closely.
"Each ticket was about ten dollars and they're sold out, but the store is sponsoring the event and I got free passes." I smirk, watching his eyebrows raise lightly. "I usually can get one person in with me. What do you say?"
He pauses. "Why me?"
"Because you're the one I know the least." And also the one I'm interested in. "Pick you up at seven, what do you say?"
He sighs. "I'll text you my address."
.
"Wow, you're..." Gerard stares at me with a blank face, standing there and letting all the cold air get in. He rushes into the car, closing the door carefully.
"I'm...?" I raise an eyebrow, sinking my foot down on the gas, pulling away from the sidewalk.
"I don't know." Silence. "Not what I expected."
"Glad to know." I grin. "You're also not what I expected. You're never what I expect, to be honest..." He wasn't all open in the beginning, but also wasn't the asshole he was in the park – in his defence, at least, he had just gotten out of a fight, nerves still on edge. At the store, however, he seemed more like himself. "Also, you're looking good."
Gerard's eyes are surrounded by eyeliner and a red eyeshadow – definitely nothing I would see him in, but also nothing I'm disappointed about –, bringing out his paleness. And for the first time, he isn't wearing that stupid school uniform and fancy shoes are replaced by platform boots. A leather jacket clutches his shoulders, decorated with a few studs and patches, and covering a nice Slipknot shirt. And there are his jeans, fucking tight and I swear I hadn't noticed this guy got such a nice ass and, fucking hell, it's difficult not staring at his thighs flat on the seat, with a chain falling over one of them.
"Thank you," he mutters quietly. Even in the reduced lighting, I can see his cheeks gaining a red tone before he looks away.
The place is crowded, but not overly – which is why the tickets were even sold, at first place – and it's fun seeing Gerard's chin drop when he looks at the sign of the place. To simplify, everyone is either always wanting to play in this bar or come watch someone play and the tickets are not only always sold in small quantities, but also expensive.
"Let's go," I chuckle after having spent a good moment observing Gerard.
We jog across the street, towards the entrance, just straight away skipping the whole line. The guy in charge of letting people in looks at us indifferently, in a silent question, muscles clear under the tight staff shirt. Even if there's no visible difference in his expression, he does relax a bit after I show him my pass and steps aside to let us in.
"Wow," Gerard mutters, almost inaudibly.
"You like it?" I ask as we walk through the people. No answer comes. He stayed back, of course; the boy is kinda shy and hesitant, after all. "C'mon!" I take a hold of his hand to pull him with me until we're in the bar area, which's much calmer. He stands there for a moment, looking around, until I point at one of the stools, sitting down on the one beside it.
Gerard shifts on his seat, hands resting on his lap and clenched into fists. He observes everything with wide eyes and I can't bring myself to avert my attention away from him. He's beautiful.
When the band starts playing, however, the atmosphere starts changing. It's a classic punk band – the kind of people you'd see around in skate lanes, spraying anarchist messages on a building's wall or behind a McDonald's counter – and the music is good, nonetheless, raw and emotional and demanding. Great to dance to.
Gerard is shy, as already stated – what makes me wonder how he even agreed on coming –, taking a good time to actually stand up from the stool and join me.
His hand is warm under mine, maybe not as warm as his cheeks seem to be. I had taken it in mine to pull him up from the stool, only, but he didn't let go and... oh well. Aren't you interesting, Gerard? I grin to myself and take his other hand to pull him to dance with me; that if you consider moving around to the rhythm of the song some kind of dance, but Gerard doesn't complain.
I'm not sure how much time goes by – I only question myself about that once the band is saying good night, breathing audibly as they get off the stage. The live music is replaced by a momentary incoherent chatter when loud music fills the place again, this time coming from the speakers. Gerard and I are out of breath when averting our attention from the stage to each other. My arms feel a bit sore after all of that, almost the opposite to my numb legs.
"Wanna grab a drink?" I nod towards the bar. "We can go to the alley to take a breath, then."
"Sounds good."
The non-alcoholic drinks are as cold as the night air, suddenly making it even more obvious how much we jumped around to the band's sound. We lean against the wall opposite to the side of the bar and I look at Gerard, watching his chest rise and fall fast, only coming to a longer pause when he brings the glass to his lips. He observes something above us, maybe the sky, but I don't care.
"Your nose is bleeding again." I suddenly note, seeing the dark red trail now almost reaching his upper lip. Not a surprise. He hurt his nose not much over a day ago and all the jumping must have opened the wound.
"Fuck." Gerard brings a hand to his nose and sighs when seeing the red stain on his fingers; I chuckle softly, halfheartedly. "What? You wanna lick it again?" he teases, raising an eyebrow at me. He apparently opts for not ruining the sleeve of his leather jacket, regarding it more than his school blazer.
I roll my eyes, smiling helplessly. "Well, if you'd like me to," I decide to tease back, looking at him through half lidded eyes.
"Ah, you wouldn't dare!" He chuckles, blood staining his lips according to how he talks.
"You think so, honey?" I raise an eyebrow. A few stutters come from him, but I just grab his glass and set it aside with mine, on the ground, before stepping towards him. "Tell me, why are you always so... bold around me? It's clear it's not part of you, as Ray even said." I suppress a humorous chuckle at how he frantically backs away against the wall, having nowhere to go. This brings me memories. "Maybe it has a specific reason?"
Gerard's eyes are wide, lips twitching, though no word ever comes through and his expression changes instantly once I get a hold of his hips and pin him to the wall. Feeling the heat coming from his cheeks is almost possible and all that resistance is gone, tendering into compliance and shyness.
"Look at you, Gerard," I mutter, rubbing circles into his hips as leaning in. "How surprising can you be?"
Having Gerard only letting out a quiet whine in response as his hands rest hesitantly over my shoulders make my heart flutter in my chest. I finally lean in, pressing my lips to Gerard's; he returns the kiss right away, lips sliding against mine easily.
And there it is; the rich metallic taste of Gerard's blood. I run my tongue over his bottom lip, snatching a hum from him, which turns into a whining-gasp once my teeth sink into it slightly.
His hands tighten around my shoulders, I grip harder onto his hips in consequence and he's sent relaxing back against the wall. He never had control over the kiss, but he's suddenly just giving up on the power at once with a quiet sound, slowly wrapping his arm around my neck to pull me closer and I gladly deepen the kiss.
"Wow, love," I breathe as soon as we part the kiss, lungs screaming for air. Gerard doesn't reply verbally, with his lips brushing lightly against mine and, by now, the blood is starting to get sticky, on its way to drying, also on my lips.
"I hope we can go out more often," he mutters shyly, not long before burying his face in the crook of my neck.
#gerard way imagine#gerard way#gerard x reader#oneshot#imagine#x reader#reader insert#male reader#female reader#mcr fanfic#mcr x reader#mcr imagine#frank iero#ray toro#mikey way#my chemical romance#fan fic#fanfiction#fanfic#gender neutral reader#non binary reader#fluff#enemies to lovers
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Be Mine (04)
Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse
Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.
Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death
Notes: Okay so, not much to say about this chapter. You'll find out why :) Please mind the new tags :) we don't want anyone getting triggered here. Fun fact: every time I write "x growled" I imagine Perry the platypus from Phineas and Ferb doing his signature growl lmao. Cracks me up every time :D
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Game, “Akazukin: Red Riding Hood.”
Everyone’s eyes are locked on the screen.
“Red Riding Hood has to run from the Big Bad Wolf while being protected by the Huntsman,” starts the robotic voice. “One person will be Red Riding Hood, while the others will be divided into two groups: the Big Bad Wolf and the Huntsman.”
“What the- “
“Clear conditions,” the voice continues, “Whoever manages to bring Red Riding Hood to the final checkpoint, wins. The time limit is thirty minutes. After thirty minutes, the losing group dies. If after thirty minutes no one is in possession of Red Riding Hood, both groups die. Is instant Game Over if Red Riding Hood dies or refuses to follow the rules.”
You were terrified of this tale as a child; you had nightmares of an actual wolf coming in the night and devouring you and your mom. Then you had grown up and realized how the tale could be interpreted as a warning to Omegas when it comes to Alphas and their manipulative nature. That hadn’t changed your opinion on the story.
The screen changes to white.
“Now for the groups,” says the voice once again, “Red Riding Hood- “
You gasp; it’s you. It’s a picture of you. You’re Red Riding Hood.
“Big Bad Wolf- “
Your eyes go wide again; Niragi and Chishiya.
“How unoriginal of them,” you hear Chishiya remark with a huff.
“The Huntsman-” and it shows the faces of everybody else in the game. There’s a pregnant pause where everyone just stares down at their phones as it dings.
“Rules,” reads the voice, “No outside weapons allowed. There are axes, as well as other useful weapons hidden throughout the area that are only to be used by the Huntsman. The Big Bad Wolf is not allowed to use any weapons besides the ones already in their possession.”
“What weapons?” you ask no one in specific as you look at Chishiya and Niragi.
They both raise their hands as Chishiya simply replies, “Claws.”
You make a surprised sound, “How are you supposed to protect yourselves like that!?”
They both look at you, and this time is Niragi that says, “I don’t know about this dog but I can do a lot with these.” You don’t fail to notice the threat in his voice as he looks down at Chishiya. The other man just huffs out a laugh.
“The game will commence in five minutes,” says the voice in a cheery tone, “Use that time wisely.”
A commotion erupts as everyone starts realizing what the game consists of. You can’t believe it yourself; you’re nothing more than a pawn in this game. Shouts of “We have to fight two Alphas to death?” and “We can do this, there’s a lot of us.” start all around you. Someone is crying. Some people just run into the dark. You ignore the loud voices around you and focus on your phone as it lights up.
If you stop running or hiding, it’s game over. If you show yourself to the Wolf, it’s game over. If you try to cheat in any way, game over.
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Niragi is looking at you with that expression you hate; betrayal and pain. But now there's also serious determination.
"No matter what you do, you can't stop running," he says. "This seems way too easy for a Ten of Spades, so watch your back."
"What about you?" you ask, eager to cover his hand with yours.
"Oh, so now you worry about me?" he retorts with a bite to his words. You can't help but flinch when his hand drops to his side and his expression changes to a mean smirk. "I'll live so I can kill that motherfucker and make you regret the moment you fucked him."
"Niragi I- "
"Save it," he turns your back to you. "I don't wanna hear it."
You see him walk away, approaching the two other militants that came with him. At least the imminent game made him pause his murder attempt. You take a glance at Chishiya, who is still focused on the screen. You wonder what is going through his head; if you know something about Chishiya is that he always catches details others don’t.
"You!" someone pushes you in the back, and you fall to your knees before you can balance yourself "Who the hell are you?”
Two different growls sound at the same time someone lunges themselves to whoever pushed you. You look up to see Chishiya in front of you in a protective stance. You take the hand he offers you and stand up to see Niragi, currently on the ground punching a man.
“Niragi stop!” you scream. He either ignores you or doesn’t hear you. No one else tries to stop it either; Chishiya simply because he doesn’t care, and everyone else out of fear. The man being beaten tries to fight back but is clearly at a disadvantage. You gasp when you see Niragi’s fingers take the shape of claws. You jump, grabbing his arm before he can slice the man right in the face. “Stop!”
Niragi looks back at you with yellow eyes, and you see as his hand takes a human form again. You pull him out of the crying and bleeding man on the ground. He doesn’t make any effort to stop you. His eyes are locked on you, still animal-like.
“You- you’re part of the game, aren’t you!?” coughs the man Niragi had punched. He sits down holding his nose, quickly dragging himself away from the other man. “You- you have to be!”
“E- Excuse me? you shakily ask in a confused tone.
“You’re not even a player, you’re just part of the game!” the man continues, “Are you gonna tell me that is a coincidence that this game is the way it is?! All you have to do is follow some rules! You live either way!”
You shake your head, “I- I am not sure what you’re implying, but I have nothing to do with this!" you reply. You confess that yes, you think it’s a big coincidence you got the role you got, but you’re not involved. You had no idea.
The man takes a step in your direction, but Niragi puts himself in the way.
“Watch it,” he says in a commanding tone. “Remember who you’re talking to.” The man holds his stare for a moment, before looking down and taking a step back. Niragi turns to the rest of the group. “Whatever you shitheads are thinking, she’s not involved in any of this. So, unless you wanna die before the game even begins, I advise you to shut up and focus on the game.” The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk, and you see the glint of fangs. “May the best wolf win.”
He then turns to you and your eyes lock. You want to talk to him, explain how and why things happened the way they happened. But you can’t say anything, not when he steps closer with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.
“You’re wasting time, go!” Niragi orders as he pushes you forward. You stumble a little as you start walking into the dark park. You look back at him and Chishiya, and you nod to each other; they will be able to find you. You’ll be alright. They will be alright.
You bolt into the night. You can barely see anything in the dark, except for the shadows that the moonlight helps casting. You just know you have to run, or you’re dead; they’re dead. The conversation from moments ago keeps playing in your head; could it be possible that this game was made specifically for you? But how would they know that the three of you would be in the same game? It sounded so far fetched; but also...possible.
Hunting horns blast through the air, making you jump and cover your ears at the awful sound. You know what it means.
Game Start.
You start hearing rustling and footsteps behind you as the other players soon follow in your steps; if to catch you or find a weapon, that you don't know. You keep running until you’re out of breath, stopping for just a few seconds behind a large tree. Your legs are shaking and your lungs are burning. The area around you is silent though, and that gives you some peace of mind. You close your eyes and sniff the air. Nothing.
You’re about to start running again to look for an actual hiding place when a sound makes you freeze in your tracks.
A howl.
And not from a regular wolf. You recognize it instantly.
Never in your life had you heard a werewolf howl until now. After the war, an Alpha fully transforming very rarely happened. The ones that did only transformed in extreme situations, usually to protect a loved one. The regular individual would not transform not even once in his lifetime. And here you are, hearing two of them. It awakes something primitive in you, and every single hair on your body stands up in a shiver. You have an impulse to howl too, but control it at the last second; you’re not doing that. You’re not an animal, as much as the wolf inside you likes to prove you wrong.
You’re startled when a hand covers your mouth, something cold pressing against your neck. You try to move, but the blade nibs at your skin. So you stop, trying to control your breathing.
“Don’t you dare to make a sound.” whispers a male voice. “I’ll chop a finger for every sound you make.”
You give a trembling nod, letting yourself be dragged by the unknown man. He’s way taller and stronger than you, so you don’t even try to fight back. You notice he’s not alone. What seems to be two young girls walk behind you, whispering in agitated voices.
“Kai, are you sure the checkpoint is this way?” asks one of the girls in a low tone.
The man grabbing you, Kai, shushes her and stops. You can hear him sniff the air, probably looking for signs of an Alpha close by. He suddenly pushes you against a nearby tree and locks eyes with you. You’re surprised to see that Kai is not much older than a highschool boy.
“Mira, press this against her neck,” he whispers to one of the girls. She approaches you, trembling hands holding the small ax against your skin. The boy stabilizes her grip before nodding, “Don’t let her move or make a sound,” he says looking into the girl’s eyes. “If you do and those Alphas hear us, we all die.”
If you’re honest with yourself, you would stay quiet either way; the last thing you want is the blood of those kids in your hands. You watch as Kai takes a map from his pocket, opening it and analyzing it for a few moments.
“If this map can be trusted I’m pretty sure the checkpoint is this house right here,” he points at a place on the map and then ahead on the path, “About three kilometers that way. We can do this.” he checks his phone. “C’mon, we only have about twenty minutes.”
You have been walking for a short moment when the smell hits you.
One of them is close; Niragi, you’re pretty sure. The others smell him too, and you notice in the dark as their eyes widen in a panic and they start running, pulling you with them. You can hear him as he gets closer, like a monster in the night. You try to ignore the exhilarating feeling that goes through you at being chased by him; it’s just like the first time you met.
One of the girls trips and falls right behind you. You flinch at hearing her screaming get louder until it abruptly stops. The other two kids hesitate before Kai stops, pushing you and the other girl to keep running. The girl, Mira, grabs your hand as you both run, and you can hear her crying.
A far away whimper of pain makes you stop in your tracks; one of the Alphas was injured.
“We have to go, please!” begs Mira as she pulls your hand, “Please, we have to-”
Mira’s words are cut short when she falls and you’re pulled down with her. You gasp in pain as you hit the ground, arm stretched into whatever hole the girl fell into. You hear a scream, then silence, as you hear a sound you can’t quite place. It’s dark and you’re not sure of your surroundings, but you could swear that hole on the ground wasn’t there seconds ago.
You’re about to ask if she is okay when the metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils. You squint in the dark, trying to see something in the black hole. The moonlight appears out of nowhere, and you can finally see. You gag when you notice the contorted body of the girl, now impaled in wood spikes. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in a permanent scream.
There are traps.
There are traps everywhere and you can’t see them.
You drag yourself away from the hole, feeling a panic attack start to form as you struggle to get air inside your lungs. You try to shake the image of the dead girl from your mind, shakily rising to your feet. Your phone gives an alarming beep, and you take a look at the screen to realize you have been in the same place for too long. You have to keep moving.
You shake the tears from your eyes and walk by the hole without a second look.
A scream far behind you snaps you out of your stupor, and you immediately take off running again. You don’t want to think about what might be happening. Despite their numbers, you can’t imagine how Betas can ever win against two fully transformed Alphas.
You’re running through an open field now, surrounded by flowers that you can barely see. A noise to your left makes you look at the line of trees, but you can’t find the source of the sound.
You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the open trap right in front of you.
You scream as the dented iron snaps around your ankle, pain sparking up your leg. You fall to the ground like a bag of potatoes, and immediately try to open the trap up. But you’re not strong enough, and the iron teeth just dig deeper into your skin. You control a sob as the pain and panic grow; you have to keep moving. You have to hide. A sound, now closer, makes you stop whimpering, and you hold your breath as you see them.
No, not Niragi and Chishiya.
No, not the Huntsman either.
Wolves. Real, wild, one hundred percent animal wolves. A pack of them. No more than twenty meters from you.
You stay still, hoping that they won’t take an interest in you.
But no. Of course that’s not what happens.
You look around for something to defend yourself with, but you’re defenseless. Here you are, trapped, wounded, on the ground, and without any means of defending yourself. The wolves approach you slowly, like they know you have no means of escaping. They start surrounding you.
“Stay away!” you scream, shaking your arms in hope that the movement will scare them away. “Shoo!”
It does not.
One of the bigger wolves prepares himself to jump. You close your eyes with a sob, waiting for the moment they will tear you apart.
He’s here.
You feel the air shift as a big dark form covers you. You’re now completely involved in his scent; cinnamon and wood. You keep your eyes closed and brace yourself. The air is filled with the sound of growls and whimpers and teeth ripping flesh. Something warm and wet splatters on you and you know it’s blood. A loud whimper of pain, a strange mix between a wolf and a human, makes you snap your eyes open.
In the moonlight, he’s huge. Terrifying. Beautiful. Bodies of wolves are on the ground. The survivors try to fight the much bigger werewolf. His fur is black as a raven’s feathers, thick and glossy and matted with blood. You can’t look away until he’s done.
Niragi is clearly tired and injured. Saliva drips from his open jaws as he takes labored breaths. He turns to you, and you notice one of his paws is practically mangled, a shine of white bone contrasting with the black fur. A big oozing laceration runs down one of his flanks, and you’re not sure if it was done by an axe or a wolf.
You snap out of your freezing state and make a move to go to him. You scream when the trap still around your ankle makes itself known. He’s on you in less than a second, hovering over you as his snout touches your leg lightly. You can’t resist the temptation to touch him, grabbing the fur of his neck and pressing your face against him.
You feel him when he suddenly changes back into a human, and your face is now pressed on his bare skin. You notice he’s naked, pale skin now almost fully covered in blood and dirt. A cut you haven’t noticed in his wolf form now clearly shows on his forehead, making blood run down his face like a waterfall.
“Niragi-” is all you manage to say. You want to cry, ask him if he’ll be okay. You panic again when you notice how much time you have left; probably not more than ten minutes. Niragi says nothing as he focuses on opening the trap with a grunt. You let out a cry of relief as the thing leaves your ankle. The wound bleeds profusely, so you take off your top, tying a makeshift bandage around the injury with the help of Niragi.
He finally looks you in the eyes as he helps you to your feet, supporting you against him.
“Y/N we-”
That’s all he manages to say.
The next moments happen so fast you can barely process it.
An arrow comes flying out of nowhere, burying itself into Niragi’s chest. His eyes go wide as he looks at you, a surprised expression in his eyes. You watch him with an open mouth as his eyes turn to gold for a moment. Then he falls to the ground. Rough hands grab you and pull you. Someone is screaming; you realize later that it’s you. Other voices laugh and they sound...excited? Happy? You can’t understand why. You trash around in an effort to get free. Whoever grabbed you punches you right in the face. For a moment, all you see is black with sparks of white. You hear a faint, “We only have five minutes!”. No. Niragi and Chishiya have to find you. They promised. They can’t die. Then you’ll be alone again.
Someone screams again. Loud voices. People running all around you. You hit the ground with force enough to take the air out of your lungs. Someone tries to grab you again, but their grip disappears like they have been pulled away. Tears are streaming down your face, but you can’t open your eyes. You can’t stand up. You hear the familiar sound of a wolf growl.
Niragi?
No; peppermint and rain.
Then you feel something warm touching you. You feel soft fur under your skin. Then it’s like you’re flying. You grab onto whatever is moving under you out of instinct. You know you have to hold on tight. You try to focus, but it’s too much.
Then nothing. Darkness. You’re not sure if you lost consciousness or not. A loud sound, similar to a siren, is what makes you open your eyes. You’re on the ground, stone cold under you as you try to sit up, covering your eyes from the sudden bright lights.
A cheery tone comes from your pocket. You stare at the phone; Game clear.
You finally look around, and there he is.
A big white wolf.
Not as big as Niragi, but still impressive. His white fur is covered in blood; if his or someone else’s, you can’t say. Your vision turves as you try to stand up and lose your balance. He catches you before you can fall, teeth gently grabbing your jacket. You stare at him in confusion; what the hell just happened? A spark of pain makes you look down at your ankle. Memories come rushing back.
You gasp. No. It can’t be.
“Chishiya, where’s Niragi?” you ask in a trembling voice. His cold eyes stare at you for a moment too long. You’re about to make a move to find Niragi yourself when the white wolf changes right in front of you. Like Niragi, the man is naked and mostly covered in blood. There’s a cut on his arm, still bleeding. A wave of concern runs over you, and you feel yourself panic even more. He sighs before his eyes lock on you.
“He’s dead.”
Next Chapter
#alice in borderland#alice in borderland fanfic#niragi suguru#chishiya shuntaro#niragi x reader#niragi fic#chishiya x reader#also on ao3
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Finally (I.ck)
You and Changkyun have been fuck buddies for a while now but all it takes for both of you to realise your true feelings is a make out session with Lee Taeyong.
Pairing: I.M ( Changkyun) x fem. reader ft. Lee Taeyong x reader
Genre: smut, fluff
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: kissing, sexual touching, unprotected sex (wrap it up fellahs), swearing, slight degradation, mentions of hate sex, possessiveness
Being a Starship Ent backup dancer meant not only following their groups in award shows and live performances, but most of the times even enjoying a couple after parties. And that’s how you found yourself trapped between a wall and Lee Taeyong’s mouth, gasping for air while he is devouring with all the strength he can master after rocking a live stage for 30′ straight.
“Every single fucking time I see you, I’m trying to control myself not to take you right there and then on stage”, he states between moans while his tongue trails down your jawline only to cease at your neck.
You can feel yourself getting wet already but you know making out with Taeyong at a party held by the industry’s biggest companies is risky and irresponsible to say the least. Have you been craving for his touch since you saw him performing a couple hours ago? Yes. Have you always wondered how he would feel like buried balls deep inside you while you scream his name? Hell yeah. You don’t wanna pass on sex with Taeyong but you need to take it somewhere safer.
“Tae, let’s go back to your hotel”, you manage to let out and you feel his smile against your skin when he nods positively. He grabs your hand but before you get to take a single step, you hear a voice calling your name causing you to freeze in your spot. A voice you would recognise amongst hundreds of screaming voices.
You both turn to face the man standing a couple meters behind you, resting his weight against the wall you were pinned against only moments ago.
“How about this scenario”, he starts and waves his hand in the air like a maestro leading an orchestra,”...Taeyong fucks off back to his hotel and cuddles with one of his 327 members, and you stay your ass exactly where you are? Sounds better to me”, his dark tone sends shivers down your spine.
You can feel Taeyong’s confused eyes on your frame and you wish the earth could swallow you whole right there and then. But then again why? You and Changkyun aren’t a couple. He has no business telling you what or what not to do.
“Kyunah, am I missing something? I’m sure Y/N wants to join me back at mine so, if you don’t mind”, the older chuckles and turns to leave when Changkyun’s voice stops you once again.
“That’s the thing Taeyong. You are missing something and Y/N isn’t going anywhere with anyone but me. It’s not your fault, it’s between me and her so please”, the younger one was cut off mid sentence.
“Ah, I see you even dropped your honorifics”, Taeyong turns to you his hand still holding yours, “... I think he is mad at you Y/N.”, he teases and you take a deep breath preparing for the shit to hit the fan because you know that the last thing one should do when Changhyuk gets like this, would be to tease him. Tae turns his gaze back unto the slightly taller man’s frame. “ I think It should be her who decides what she wants to do. Don’t you?.”, he pauses, “...Changkyunah”, the name leaving his lips dipped in irony and you know this is it.
Changkyun takes a step towards your direction and his frame is towering above yours and Taeyong’s body at this point. He chuckles allowing his gaze to drop on the floor while taking a deep breath possibly to end the lot of you, you think to yourself.
“Taeyongah, how about you let her hand go. Unless you want your group’s dance line to be 2 legs short”, his tone now serious with no room for games and tease. Taeyong lets out a breath and focuses his attention back on your face. Before he manages to allow any words to leave his mouth you interrupt him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Oppa, let me sort out this misunderstanding with Changkyun and I’ll join you later on. Is that ok? I know there’s gonna be a party at your hotel anyway so, you’ll see me there. Is that ok?”, you use the sweetest tone you can master while batting your eyelashes at him and you have him melting under your stare.
“Sure thing baby. See you later”, he agrees and lets your hand go. After placing a soft kiss on your cheek he turns to Changkyun. “..have a good one man. See you around”, and with a chuckle he turns to leave, leaving you and the dark haired man standing next to you staring at each other and you swear you would be able to cut the tension with a knife at this point.
You don’t get to even think of something to say, when his grip is on your arm literally dragging you up the staircase near the entrance of the space the event is being held at. You try to keep up with his step, pushing yourself to run when you realise that there is no way he will loosen his hold on you till you reach whichever destination he is guiding you towards. When you get to a couple floors above the one you were at a few moments ago, you realise that he is taking you where the group’s rooms are.
“I didn’t know you had rooms in this hotel as well. Why are the dancer’s at a different hotel t-..”, he cuts you off by placing his finger on your lips. You hold a breath and for the first time get to stare straight at him. His eyes are dark and they hold something unknown to you. Something you haven’t seen before; it’s not lust, it’s not anger...
“Stop trying to read me for fuck’s sake”, he spits and opens the door in front of you, pushing you inside, locking it once he gets in the room as well. He lets out a breath, his back leaning against the door, his head tilted back and his eyes glued at the ceiling as he is trying to calm himself down.
You don’t know what to do. You don’t understand his behaviour and you know he isn’t planning on helping you to do so. You turn and walk towards the large window nonchalantly roaming your gaze at the city that spreads before you. The view is breathtaking and for a fraction of a second you allow yourself to think of the beauty of the view instead of the raging man behind you. This however doesn’t last long. Moments after, you feel two arms caging you in a hug. You can feel his body glued to yours and his chin resting on the crook of your neck.
“Distress and fear”. he whispers against your neck and the feeling of his warm breath against your skin has your eyes rolling back inside your head. “what?”, you ask and your voice comes out so quiet that you’re surprised he heard you.
“You were trying to understand what I was feeling. Distress and fear. Distress because i saw Lee fucking Taeyong eating your face like a fucking animal and fear because I was scared you would actually chose to go with him”, his tone isn’t weak anymore and you can sense him sliding back into character. His usual character. The annoying, bratty, aggressive, spoiled motherfucker you know. You shake him off and take a step away from him, walking up and down the space between the bed and the sofa trying to gather your thoughts just so that you won’t slap him right there and then.
“Let me get this straight because I assume you are mistakenly under the impression that you get to boss me around”, you take a short breath, “...you got mad because I, a single, free woman, chose to make out with a hot dude and then you were scared that I would chose him over you? First of all, what I do with my mouth and my pussy is none of your business and second of all. I don’t remember being given an option back there. All I remember was me being forced to agree with a 25 year old brat only because I knew that you would throw a fucking tantrum as you always do whenever you don’t get what you want.”, you finally stop and stare at him only to find his eyes already on you, wide open in shock. You can feel a dryness in your throat and you get a hint that you might have been actually screaming, but you don’t care, you have had enough of this behaviour.
“Whenever I don’t get what I want?”, he speaks and his voice though strong, carries an undertone of hurt. “ I throw a tantrum whenever I don’t get what I want?”, he continues louder and takes a step towards your direction. You take a step back only to feel the edge of the bed meeting the back of your knee.
“Let me tell you how I see it then, because I feel like you are mistakenly under the impression that your behaviour is acceptable without realising that you’re being a bitch. You wanna fuck? You come to me. You wanna disappear for a week? You disappear for a week-”
“That happened once”, you cut him off understanding what incident he is talking about.
“And i found you at a club, climbed up on a motherfucker’s lap.”, he shouts and his voice makes you jolt. “ I throw a tantrum whenever i don’t get what i want? The only time you saw me talking, TALKING’, he emphasises, “ to another girl you started flirting with Kihyun. Are you for fucking real? Who goes crazy when they don’t get things their way? You are the spoiled brat here not me.’, he brushes his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down.
“I don’t know what you feel. I can never tell what you’re thinking. How am I supposed to act?”, you say and your voice is now soft. You don’t want to push him because you find truth in his words and even though it hurts, you want to make it right.
“Why would I? Why would I let you understand? Why would I open up to someone who cares about me only when she wants a good fuck? You think it’s easy for me, holding back?”, he is standing right in front of you, not even a meter in between you, ducking slowly so that his face would be on the same level as yours. You lift your gaze to look at him and you see tears pooling in his eyes.
Your chest feels heavy and you have to fight back your own tears from falling, not even knowing what they’re for. It’s getting harder to breathe yet all you want to do is hug the man in front of you. Not knowing why, or how that would help the mess unraveling between the two fo you, but all you can think about is offering him some comfort the only way you know how; physical contact.
And that’s what you do, throwing your hands around his neck, your chest flashed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder. Your actions catch him off guard, you can tell, because it takes him a couple seconds to return the hug. But his does, his hands now toying with your hair while he pushes his entire body against yours.
Your fingers are drawing meaningless shapes on his back, slowly traveling down to his lower body eventually resting on his ass and you push your lower part against his. He groans and quickly pushes you away.
“Are you for real right now? You’re doing it again. You’re using sex again. You are un-fucking-believable”, an ironic laugh slips his lips and he throws you a glare that makes you feel both stupid and small.
“That’s what we do Chan. We fight and we have make up sex or hate sex or whatever. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it. And if that’s the case then I’m sorry if I ever pushed you to do something you didn’t feel comfortable doing. As the older person here I should be the one-”
“Oh shut up, will you.”, he snaps, eyes locked with yours. “Don’t patronise me Y/N”.
“I see you have completely given up on your honorifics today, Taeyong was right”, you throw and you regret the snarky comment the moment it leaves your mouth.
“I always use titles that match one’s actions. There are times that I call you noona and that i’m being polite. Then there’s moments when you’re acting like a bitch. So today, that’ll be the title I’m going with. Bitch.”, he growls and you know that your pussy shouldn’t be throbbing like that at his words. Your palms shouldn’t be sweaty and the only thing you want to do now shouldn’t be to let him take you on every single surface inside this bloody hotel room.
You push your legs together in a useless attempt to calm the muscles dancing in your core. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he lets out a light chuckle while shaking his head in dispute.
“Clothes off”, his voice comes out so calm and you feel bewitched. Staring at him you do as he says, getting rid of every piece of clothing hugging your body and move on to lay down on the bed. His stare is dancing on your figure, lingering a second or two more on your breasts, your curves. God, he has never seen a more perfect human being but he can’t let you know that. His pride won’t allow him to admit it.
Following your actions, he takes off his clothes throwing them on a pile next to yours on the floor, and move up on the bed, his body now hovering above yours, his waist resting between your thighs.
His hand plays with your breast, harshly pinching the sensitive bud before capturing it in his mouth causing the first loud moan to escape your lips. He teases with his tongue a bit more and then focuses his attention back on your face. You throw your hands around his neck and push him onto you, crashing your lips together. You kiss him softly, tenderly and it shocks you how much emotion you let out on a simple kiss.
That’s not your usual self. You never show him your true emotions when you kiss or fuck. How pathetic? You think to yourself. The backup dancer who fell in love with a famous idol. The realisation of how dangerous this all is hits you like a truck and you halt all your movements, detaching your lips from his.
Changkyun gives you a confused look as you gently push him off of you, but he refuses to move an inch, trying to catch your eyes, looking for any sort of hint, feeling or explanation.
“What’s wrong”, he asks softly and he places a hand on your cheek, slowly caressing your skin.
“Chan, I-i can’t. I need to go”, you let out and your eyes are now scanning the room trying to locate your clothes when he grabs your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him.
“You can and you won’t go anywhere. You want me? Tell me Y/N, do you want me?”, he radiates so much tension and you understand that this must be hard for him as well. Fuck it, it’s now or never.
“I’m in love with you. I know I shouldn’t, you can’t even date for fuck’s sake. It’s so stupid of me, I’ve been so stupid Chan, thinking that I wouldn’t get attached if I just acted like I didn’t, but I can’t do it anymore.”, you plead and you can feel tears rolling down your cheeks. “ Please end this. End this between us because I don’t have the strength to do it”, you hide your face inside your palms trying to not burst into a full sob.
He takes your hands in his and moves them from your face. There’s a smile jeweling his beautiful lips and you can’t help but feel a wave of heat spreading in your chest. Next thing you can feel is his hard member pushing slowly into you, filling you up so good and all you can do is moan out his name.
He sets a slow, steady pace that has you seeing stars. His lips kissing your mouth, cheeks, neck, softly biting the skin on your shoulder. You feel so close to him, you can feel the heat his body radiates, his heartbeat and suddenly it’s too much yet perfect. You allow yourself to get drown in this emotion, get swallowed by this man’s aura.
“Will you be my girlfriend? Be mine baby, please”, he whispers next to your ear before he gently bites on your lob. You moan out his name feeling closer to your high with every thrust, every word, every move. He doesn’t stop, he keeps fucking into you slowly but more harshly than before causing his pelvic area to slam against your oversensitive clit with every push.
“Chan, please I-I’m close-”, your whine gets lost in your own moans.
“Answer me first. Will you..”, he thrusts so deep inside you that you can feel him touching that soft spot that has your body going numb. “...be”, he says and thrusts again, with the same speed and strength and you can feel your release approaching. “...my girlfriend?”, he pushes inside you for the last time and you can only scream out your answer not caring about anyone else hearing you.
“Yes, yes. Please”, you plead and you know you won’t last more than a few more second. You stare at him and you can feel his dick twitching inside you causing your pussy to clench around the member. He is not moving, he stays still, balls deep inside you, staring at you lovingly and in all honesty you don’t need much more in order to cum.
“Cum for me baby, let it go”, he whispers while leaving soft kisses on your face and your body obeys, releasing around his member, clenching tighter again and again as you moan out his name. You can feel him spilling inside you, as he drops his entire body weight on yours, your hands playing with a couple strands of his hair.
It takes you a couple minutes for both of you to calm your breathings when you decide to break the silence.
“Changkyun, you can’t date”, you state and your tone melts like chocolate giving him goosebumps. He raises his head to take a look at your fucked out face and he knows that if he wasn’t already so head over heals for you, he would for sure fall in love right at this moment.
“I can do whatever I want”, he smiles.”I’m not some kind of pretty face that fills a gap in a group. What I write, what I sing and who I date are my decision.”, he continues and you can’t help but admit that you love this confident side of him. How he knows what his worth is and how not to take shit from anyone.
“Ok. I trust you.”, you smile and leave a shy peck on his lips.
“Finally for fuck’s sake”, he shouts and throws his head back laughing like a kid who won their first grand prize. You can’t help but laugh back at him when you realise that he is still buried inside you and you can feel him getting hard again.
“Babe, I think-”
“Round two?”, he asks with a devilish smile on his lips.
#kpop fanfic#monstax#monsta x fiction#monsta x smut#kpop smut#im changkyun#i.m monsta x#monsta x imagines#im changkyun smut#monsta x oneshot#monsta x fluff#lee taeyong#taeyong
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Lonely Hearts Club
Seokmin: Chapter 4 (Let Your Heart Hold Fast)
Characters: Seokmin x female reader
Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, implied toxic masculinity, food mentions, sexual mentions/jokes, mentions of the dead, mentions of potential violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything!
Author’s Note: For those of you asking, yes Soonyoung is Seungcheol’s mate in all the story lines but his own. Don’t ask me why, I just see it this way. I’m trying not to make every single chapter for every single member super angsty but your girl is a simple sad bitch so I can’t help it. Also, if I made another Seventeen Werewolf AU in a different universe following a different concept, would you guys read it? Let me know pls because I have an idea but I don’t wanna make it if no one would be interested in it.
Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!
Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts
☁️
Lonely Hearts Club Master List
Chapter 4: Let Your Heart Hold Fast
Since you had gotten back to the pack’s house, things had been going… pretty well actually. You were getting along well with everyone, you were getting used to staying in a house again, and you had pretty much become content with living with a bunch of other wolves. You were still a bit awkward with your mate. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it did make certain things… uncomfortable.
For instance, you guys stayed in the same room now. You figured there was no point in taking up a room if you were mates with one of the boys. It seemed selfish to you to continue to have your own. So instead, you began sleeping in the same room as Seokmin. He was beyond thrilled that you decided to stay with him, but your guys interactions got very… blurred. You weren’t sure what was okay and what wasn’t okay, neither was he.
So you usually slept on one side of the bed and he slept on the other, with a pillow in between the both of you to prevent touching. Still, you two always somehow managed to cuddle in your sleep and woke up in each other’s arms. THAT’S when it got awkward. You’d start to fumble around and get all embarrassed and he’d just be sitting there plain tongue tied at what was going on.
You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. The motherfucker had already seen every angle of your body naked, so what was the big deal? You couldn’t place it. Being around him now just made you feel so on edge. Seeing him or knowing he was near you had your fingers tingling from your palm to the tip of your middle finger, it felt like even your aura was shimmering due to his presence. Everything about him made every cell in your body was electrified. It was a strange feeling. And you always hoped your mate didn’t notice, but, unfortunately for you, he did notice.
He saw how scattered and frazzled you’d get whenever he’d get near you. He felt bad for it. But he couldn’t help but want to be near you, you were his whole world. You had been very kind to him and very caring towards him. You just didn’t really understand the whole ‘forever partners’ thing. He figured it would take you a lot of time to get used to having a mate again.
But the wolf part of him also just wanted to show you that he could be as good of a mate Cyrus was. He wanted to show you he was big and strong and able to be a good provider. He couldn’t help it, it was in his nature to be naturally competitive with your past partner. It was in his nature to want to protect you and want to be seen as someone you looked at as a safe place rather than someone you looked at like you had to protect yourself. He felt bad about it. He tried to suppress it, but he just couldn’t. The toxic masculinity of the wolf instinct just wouldn’t go away.
“Morning everyone!” you chirped as you all but skipped your way down the stairs to the kitchen, immediately locking eyes with your mate and feeling a heat rise to your cheeks instantly.
You were greeted with a wave of ‘mornings’ by the crowd now in front of you as you grabbed a bowl from one of the cabinets and began to pour yourself some cereal. You could feel Seokmin’s eyes on your every movement but you tried to brush it off as best you could and pretended not to notice.
You yawned a bit in tiredness before you sat down in an empty seat semi across from your mate. You were exhausted. Sleeping for you had become a bit better now that Seokmin slept next to you, but it had also become… uncomfortable for reasons you weren’t so sure you were ready to admit yet.
“Well it sounds like SOMEONE’s still tired!” Smirked Soonyoung, who was no doubt trying to make it sexual in nature. But it was truly just a yawn.
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, tired from you keeping me up all night from having to hear you jerk one out for the umpteenth night in a row. Seriously what’s it been now? 4 days running? 5? I can’t keep track anymore.” You responded with a sly grin on your face, much to the delight of your brothers who began a symphony of laughter at your smart reply.
“Hey it’s not my fault Cheol’s withholding sex!” He explained defensively as he crossed his arms over his chest in a huff.
Seungcheol just snickered and let out a, “But It IS your own damn fault” before he continued on eating his breakfast by stuffing a spoon full of it in his mouth. At this point, you had begun joining in on the others fun and we’re holding your stomach in amusement.
“No it’s not!” Soonyoung put his hand over his heart dramatically as if he were accused of something horrendous, “You’re just being ridiculous!” He snarled at his partner angrily while the rest of you were still dying of laughter.
“I’m not being ridiculous my love, you need to be taught lessons and with you, withholding sex is the only way you learn. Therefor, I withhold sex.” Cheol replied matter of factly with a mouth full of food.
Jihoon raised his face in disgust at their conversation, “Eww gross! I don’t want to think about you two fucking!”
After that, it seemed like the laughter died down enough to have a more civilized conversation. Well, as civilized as the pack’s conversations could really get with 13 boys in it.
“So we need to go to the market today, we’re running low on supplies. Who’s all gonna go?” Joshua asked aloud, praying literally anyone would want to go out as he absolutely hated going himself.
A lot of the boys had already gotten caught or had close calls in the village. There were only a select few who could now go to the market undetected. Joshua just happened to be one of them, but he refused to go alone. He could be charming when he needed to be, but he preferred someone else come with so that he could take the things they needed and couldn’t afford while they distracted the shop keepers.
“I can go!” You raised your hand cutely with a sweet smile on your face before anyone else could say anything. Though, you did hear a loud huff that came from in front of you out of Seokmin.
It wasn’t that he wanted you to have to stay inside all the time. But the town was DANGEROUS. They had already caught half of them on multiple occasions, soon, there wouldn’t be anyone left that could go out and get supplies. And when they were caught, the boys got REAL close to being hung up on some hunter’s mantle.
Werewolves and hunters had been at each other’s throats since before even the alphas were born. So of course he didn’t want the love of his life out in the middle of a war there’s no way the boys could possibly win. If something happened to you, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. But he knew you would never see the validity of his argument. Because of this, instead of arguing with you, he decided to make his displeasure known passively.
Joshua clapped his hands together with joy, “Perfect! So (Y/N)’s in. Anyone else?”
He wasn’t super concerned about being alone now that you were going with. He knew that he could probably compel one of the younger boys who hadn’t been seen to go with him too just for safe measure. But he figured he’d ask in case he could actually get a volunteer for once. With you going, there was a good chance one of the others would decide to go willingly now too.
“If she’s going, then I’m going too.” Declared Seokmin from his seat of self pity.
The entire pack turned to look at him, including you. It wasn’t normal for him to want to go out in public. The only reason he was one of the few who hadn’t gotten exposed yet was because he was generally too scared of humans to go out. Now here he was volunteering to go because you had. He wasn’t about to let you go out without him. Boy, love sure had a way of making men do the stupidest things.
You shook your head in protest, “No. Absolutely not. You can’t go. I refuse to let you go.”
Seokmin grit his teeth in their place, “If you’re going then so am I. I’m just as capable as any of the rest of you!” He hissed out between nose flares.
That was another thing, this would also be the perfect way to show you that he could protect you and be tough for you like he wanted to. He knew you thought of him as some little boy, he wanted to change that. He wanted you to think as highly of him as he did you and this was a good way to start.
“But Seokmin-” You were swiftly cut off before you could continue with your argument.
“But Seokmin nothing. If you’re going, I’ll be right there with you watching you. End of discussion.” He finished with a bit of a growl to show you and everyone else he meant business.
The boys all looked to you as if you were the deciding voice, even though you weren’t an alpha. You were his mate and one of the few that could go. If you didn’t want him going, then they’d respect that decision. BUT both you and them also knew it meant trouble for your relationship or whatever it was you had with him if you refused it.
You groaned in frustration and thought while you drug your hands down your face in annoyance. He could get himself hurt. Did you REALLY have it in you today to protect him? You were still so on edge with him near, was it really a GOOD idea for him to be out in the human world right next to you? But part of you also knew full well that he wasn’t going to back down from his insane idea. The best you could do was humor him and PRAY that nothing bad would happen.
“Ugh fine! Whatever. But so help me god, if I have to come save your ass because you get caught, I’m definitely NOT gonna be happy.” You rolled your eyes at his narrowed ones.
He gave you a victorious grin that made you want to grab his face and pull him in for a kiss and smack him for his smugness at the same time. But instead of doing that, you all quickly adjourned to your rooms to get ready for the day to come. You just hoped it wouldn’t all go to shit.
(Updated 9/21)
#seventeen#seventeen au#seventeen angst#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt au#seventeen seokmin#seokmin angst#seokmin imagines#svt seokmin#svt dk#dokyeom
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nobody asked but here is every unraveled episode (as of may 2020) as how they’d be as a lover | a 2.5k word long post written in the style of an unraveled about unraveled and also love
Ah. Unraveled. Polygon’s golden boy of a video series where Brian David Gilbert is beckoned into a suit, lured into a blackbox studio, and is only granted escape after he has explained to three cameras whatever batshit video game adjacent thesis he has been cursed with this time. Unraveled is a wonderful video series, and we all love it.
But what if it could love us?
If you’ve ever asked this question to yourself, boy, do I have some content for you, because for the past 2 days, I’ve been working on this post where, for entirely too long, I explain to you how each Unraveled episode would be as a lover. And more importantly, which ones would be the best lovers.
Before I fall deep into this unhinged hole and take you down with me, I need to explain some things.
First: I want to make it clear that I am not categorizing BDG as he portrays himself in each Unraveled. I am instead taking each Unraveled episode as a fully formed being, the story, performance, etc, and letting that shape a character of its own. This character is where I extrapolate details from to create an Unraveled episode’s qualities as a lover. What I’m basically doing is anthropomorphizing Polygon dot com video content. And then making you date them. If this doesn’t make sense, don’t worry, it will as you read along. And if it helps you to visualize the Unraveled Episode As A Lover, I invite you to just imagine whomever it is you are most attracted to---or for those who don’t experience attraction, whomever it is you find most aesthetically pleasing---and then just add in the wild personality traits I describe through the course of this post.
Second: I know what you’re thinking. “Avian, the characteristics of what makes a good lover is subjective!” And I wholeheartedly agree. I’ve been through college, and I’ve witnessed my friends whom I love so dearly enter relationships with some of the most wack ass motherfuckers I’ve ever met. I know that people are into different things. But do I judge them for it? Well, kinda, yeah! Yes, what we want in a lover is subjective, but I’ve consumed a metric fuckton of romance media over the course of my life and am also in a wonderful relationship with my own girlfriend, and thus have my own personal idealized ranking for what makes a good lover. Feel free to disagree with my rankings of Unraveled Lovers, but also, I’m writing this post. I say this with as much love as I possibly can, but if you disagree with me, make your own post. If you don’t wanna make your own post, you’re just going to have to trust me for 2.1k more words.
With that out of the way, let me take you on a journey through the 23 Unraveled Lovers, from worst to best.
BAD TIER: I would probably advise you to break up with these Unraveled Lovers as soon as you are emotionally capable of doing so.
Hoo boy, we’re starting at the bottom. The perfectionists, the nitpickers, the emotionally unavailables. These Unraveled Lovers would have good intentions, but just have aspects within their personality that will wear you and your relationship together down until both of you can no longer take it.
“Ranking all 200+ Megaman robots” is a lover obsessed with the concept of “is this worth it?” They would unknowingly but inevitably rank parts of your own personality on a scale of ‘worth the trouble in this relationship’ and ‘not worth the trouble’. Any lover who deals with you with this kind of dichotomy is somebody you should not be with. You should be accepted and loved for all your parts, the beautiful and the ugly.
“How to make the perfect E3 press conference” is a lover who spent years consuming romance media and has a list of what makes the perfect relationship. So not only do they have unrealistic expectations for what a relationship is, but they will be obsessed with reaching that unreachable perfection. That will definitely put a strain on your relationship until the veneer of desired perfection crumbles away, leaving you both tired and sad.
On a less deep note, “How to tell apart all 596 Fire Emblem characters” just won’t remember any of the names of your friends or family. Sure, they’ll try, but they’ll give up in like 15 minutes and you’ll never be able to take this Unraveled Lover to a family reunion or a party with your friends. Probably not a dealbreaker, but as the Spice Girls said “If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.” This Unraveled Lover will not. Next.
“No one asked but I found Mortal Kombat’s best cuddler” and “I wasted 3 weeks of my life finding Castlevania’s hottest monster” are two Unraveled Lovers with a similar problem: they both won’t shut the fuck up about their exes. Mortal Kuddler constantly brings up all the other cuddles they’ve experienced and Castlevanias Hottest Monster will tell you you’re beautiful, but also bring up like 69 other monsters they think are also beautiful. This might not be a red flag, but personally, this would tire me out, always being thought of in comparison or contrast to others.
That ends the BAD TIER and brings us to the OKAY TIER where a large chunk of the Unraveled Lovers fall into, so much so that I had to create more specific sub tiers under the OKAY TIER.
So let’s get into the OKAY TIER: These Unraveleds Lovers are alright, you’ll just have a sublimely weird relationship.
These Unraveled Lovers will treat you right but they’re also just very peculiar. Nothing wrong with that at all, but I’m here to explain to you just in what ways these okayest lovers are bizarre. Let’s start with the first sub tier.
OKAY SUB TIER: College Students who are way too into their major
There are a lot of Unraveled Lovers under this subtier, and this shouldn’t surprise you, because Unraveleds are inherently nerdy. These are lovers that will be good to you but also just never fucking shut up about what it is they’re studying.
“I read all 337 books of Skyrim so that you don’t have to” and "Understanding Kingdom Hearts (and every other story" are Creative Writing majors obsessed with analyzing every single thing they read. As a Creative Writing major myself, I would advise you to never date a Creative Writing major unless you are a Creative Writing major yourself. I think that’s the only way the relationship can be ethical. Being sent essays from the New Yorker every day would be torture if you didn’t actively enjoy it.
“We made all 78 Breath of Wild recipes in one day” is a Culinary Arts major and, score, they’re gonna wanna cook for you! A lot! Beware though, because it’ll be a hit or miss on whether or not the food will be good, but you must admit, that there is nothing quite as attractive as your lover making you food (let’s just hope the food doesn’t harm you).
“Smash Bros. owes millions of dollars in OSHA violations” is going to law school and that should be a dealbreaker in itself, but I’ll be a bit lenient because they’re always working towards the safety of everybody. This Unraveled Lover will always remind you to put your seatbelt on and also tell you exactly what laws you are violating.
“Bowser’s military hierarchy” is a Political Science major, and Political Science majors scare me. So I’ll just say they’re okay, and leave it at that.
“Which Dark Souls Boss is the best manager?” is a rare non-evil Management major because they actually truly care for the welfare of employees. They just will always talk about it, even when you guys are on a date. I know worker’s rights are important, but it’s not exactly what I want to talk about in between kisses, yknow?
“I fixed Fallout’s music by creating a totally new genre” is a Music major who keeps accidentally making Ska love songs to you. You didn’t know Ska love songs could be a thing. This Unraveled Lover makes it a thing.
“Scientifically Calculating the Game of the Year” is a Math major so you will never have to worry about calculating bills because they can do it for you.
“Calculate your pet’s HP with my 100% legitimate formula” is a Veterinary Medicine major so if you’re an animal lover, this Unraveled is the one for you! Just beware, because this Unraveled Lover will also spend a lot of time observing you from afar to quantify your health points, but both of you will inexplicably find this activity strengthens your relationship.
And last but not least for this sub tier, “When can Mario retire?” is a disillusioned Accounting and Finance major who chose this line of study to get a job and, through the years, realized what a hellscape capitalism is. You may have to deal with a lot of zoning out and staring off into the distance, with this Unraveled Lover, but a lover who hates capitalism sure is a good egg.
That brings us to our next sub tier!
OKAY SUB TIER: Cultists or Conspiracy Theorists (AKA...College Students who are way too into their extracurriculars)
These Unraveled Lovers are alright! They’re just a little bit off the shits.
“Every Sonic game is blasphemous” will get really really worked up about things and probably try to start a cult. For most, that’s a definite dealbreaker, but what makes Sonic Bible an okay lover is that they eventually calm down from the cult outburst and apologize. So this Unraveled Lover will treat you well, you just have to be ready to ground them when they get a little bit bonkers.
“Solving the Zelda Timeline in 15 minutes” is very similar to Sonic Bible, except instead of starting a cult, every once in a while they’ll just sit you down on a chair and explain to you their latest obsession while slowly and intensely stripping. Which, hey, that could make for a fun night, if you’re into that kinda stuff! Definitely okay in my book.
That brings us to our last okay sub tier.
OKAY SUB TIER: Your Unraveled Lover might need to schedule some sessions with a therapist, and that’s Okay
Listen, we all have baggage. We all have problems. These are Unraveled Lovers who want to be the best for you, but at the same time have issues of their own, and you’re going to have to support them when they pop into their local psych clinic to make themselves better people.
“Waluigi” is an Unraveled Lover who is going through some identity issues. They want to be good for you, but they don’t even know who exactly they are. They may feel as if they are tricking you into being in this relationship, that they aren’t who you think they are, and while these fears are irrational, they wholeheartedly believe it and will never feel fully secure in this relationship until they have made peace with themselves. If you love this Unraveled Lover, you’re going to have to stick with them as they learn more about who they are.
“Kirby” is an Unraveled Lover who, for some reason, is obsessed with the constant quest to make things make sense. This need of theirs bleeds into every aspect of their life and can definitely affect your relationship. This Unraveled Lover may sometimes perhaps cite that they don’t deserve you because they can’t seem to figure out a logical and objective answer for why you are with them. This issue of treating everything like a puzzle to solve is an issue they will have to work out and recover from, and they will be receptive to this process of recovery because they cherish the relationship they have with you and understand that not everything has to be solved; some things can just be felt. If you choose to stay with this Unraveled Lover, you must be prepared to support them when they take a mysterious but needed soul searching journey in the woods. You must be prepared to sit with them along the shores of the beach and reassure them that life is about living, not about answers.
And that, dear readers, ends the OKAY TIERs. Now it’s time for the tier you have all been waiting for.
Drumroll, please!
GOOD TIER: Pop open the champagne, bring out the strawberries dipped in chocolate, and let Spotify play Careless Whisper, baby, because we’re in the Ideal Lover zone.
Welcome to the Ideal Lover Zone. Here, we have three Unraveled Lovers who are just extremely good fellas.
“I used the Sims to perfect my apartment” is an Unraveled Lover who will work their hardest to be the best for you, but unlike the BAD TIER perfectionists, it will naturally dawn to them that perfection is unattainable. After this realization, they will find comfort and happiness in your romantic relationship and the other healthy relationships they have with other people. This Unraveled Lover will be sincere with you when the time calls for it, but will also not be afraid to be goofy for it. Above all, this Unraveled Lover will ask for help when they need it. They may often be shy, at first, but they understand their limits and will openly communicate to you when situations call for it. Communication is the bedrock of any good relationship, and this Unraveled Lover will never keep you guessing.
“The Perfect Pokerap” is similar to the Sims, in the sense that they will at first strive for perfection in the honeymoon phase of your relationship but then understand that that isn’t possible and then set more reasonable and realistic goals. What sets this Unraveled Lover out from the crowd though is just how much they cherish you. How devoted they are to you. The love you will feel in this relationship will be transcendental, and, even if you do break up, this Unraveled Lover will never forget you.
And finally. Who---according to me, a mildly delirious 21 year old rando on the internet---is the most ideal Unraveled Lover?
It’s “Find your Kojima name with my simple 11 page form.” Why? Because this Unraveled Lover wants to know you. They want to know everything about you, the parts you like and the parts you don’t like. This is a lover who will not shy away from any aspect of yourself, but instead, embrace you for who you are as a full fledged person.
They’ll also give you a whack ass pet name, and boy, isn’t that romantic?
Well, there you have it. All (as of May, 2020) of the Unraveled Episodes as 23 Unraveled Lovers. What did I learn from this endeavor? That romantic love is complicated, but if you’re into it, it is definitely worth the trials and tribulations.
...As long as I’m not dating the Castlevania Unraveled. Seriously, when we’re making out, I don’t wanna hear about how sexy the Hyena With Gun is. Learn how to read the room, dude.
(Thanks for reading.)
#reposting because damn it i worked too hard on this that it BETTER FUCKIN SHOW UP IN THE TAG#polygon#bdg#unraveled#brian david gilbert#nobody asked but
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THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series
first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over
which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.
so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.
i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here
without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.
THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1
clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.
firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING
the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case
i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case
i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.
i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!
i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974
i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.??
i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.
i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape
THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2
Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978
awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx
this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK.
so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;
Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978
then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link;
“https://youtu”
claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.
i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files;
relocate X/X/75 felix
storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)
Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten
Shipping Service 1975
New Location -> 1982
i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974
starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.
i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;
Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)
i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote;
Technical Support 1978
then,
Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)
alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;
- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie�� coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod
- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;
- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho
i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;
- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.
- Tape #4 - Unkown Date
- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978
- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;
TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB
holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;
12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao
found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did
Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao
Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??
starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;
“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless:
at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;
@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*
okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well.
might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.
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intermission • v | moonshine
→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.
→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jihope + seokjin)
→ genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst
→ warnings: homoerotic tension (?), delulu shippers, seokjin is a nosy motherfucker (as per usual)
→ words: 7.3K
→ a/n: it’s been,, ten million years,, sorry to my fox rain readers but let’s just say my brain has been a smoothie for a while but now!! it is still a smoothie but perhaps a little chunkier ;w; anyway, we love jihope in this household,, and seokjin,, is seokjin,, we love him too
— • masterlist | prev | intermission v | next • —
In a small studio apartment somewhere close to your university campus, notoriously handsome and oh-so-talented Kim Seokjin wakes up in cold sweat, his heart beating a mile a second and a chill running down his spine. “There’s been a disturbance in the force,” he mutters lowly to himself, a drop of sweat making its way down his razor-sharp jaw.
He had been in the midst of a wondrous dream wherein he, the universe’s protagonist, was being showered with praise and adoration after the sensational debut of his autobiographical documentary. Men and women alike were at his feet, peppering his heaven-sent toesies with the worship that he deserves. Everyone was there, even you had been there, his self-declared rival! But just as you were about to reach the head of the line, lips puckered and ready to go, Seokjin was ripped away from his kissies without warning.
You, of course, were not the reason for his mind-bending, earth-shattering, cock-jizzing premature arousal from his slumber. No –– Kim Seokjin does not wake up prematurely, for every moment of his life is a beacon of perfection. Only events of the most catastrophic order were able to wake him up from his slumber, so whatever cosmic force caused him to awaken must’ve been no joke. He had to take this seriously, as it might mean thousands of lives were at stake.
Seokjin jumps to his feet with a flourish, his entire body oozing grace, so much so that it would make any grown ballerina cry. He rushes to unplug his phone from its charger, unlocking it and immediately going to search through his social media accounts. As he scans through the tweets and posts, his well-trained eye sifts through the dreary and the mundane, his only intent to find whatever it is that might forewarn him of a natural disaster.
His follower count is stable. His engagement graphs show that his posts are at an all-time high. To any other novice, this might have been a sign that his gut feeling had been nothing but a fluke. Surely, nothing is wrong in the universe? But no, Seokjin is not some mere amateur! He wouldn’t be as successful at being a prick celebrity social media influencer if he didn’t have the reflexes that he did. He has to keep searching and pick out any little thing that might indicate that something was amiss.
It takes a hot minute (three hours to be exact) for Seokjin to find it, but he does. And oh, his intuition had been right: this was a level nine catastrophe. To give you an understanding of what that might mean, then here’s some context to scale: a level eight catastrophe would be if you ever found that he might have had a crush on you when you first met each other; a level ten catastrophe would be if Kim Seokjin lost all his followers overnight and was forced to relinquish his title as an Instagram baddie. So yes, level nine was dire, if not almost life-threatening.
The evidence?
...
...
To the untrained eye, it might look like nothing. But to a delulu devoted JiHope stan? This was a living nightmare.
Oh god, the signs are all there! The context, the timestamps, the emojis… They all made sense in Seokjin’s complicated maze of a mind. Like a seasoned detective, he’s able to connect all the dots to make a valid hypothesis that yes, JiHope is in danger of breaking up*.
[Addendum: Please note that JiHope has never dated before. Kim Seokjin is a lunatic and the constraints of reality do not apply to those of his kind. Please read the rest of this report with that in mind. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
“FUCK!” he exclaims (with feeling), dropping to his knees as he cries (with feeling). The signs are all there: something is causing a rift between his two favorite homos* from staying together and he, as the chosen one, must do something to save them before it’s too late.
[Addendum: Well, technically he’s right, but Jimin is bisexual at the very least, but that’s a matter of semantics… But that’s pretty much as “factual” as Kim Seokjin is ever going to get, so let’s take that as a blessing. Noted by: Min Yoongi (again).]
He can’t jump headfirst into this madness, however. He needs a plan; not only did it need to be foolproof, but it also had to be undeniably fabulous and downright heinous. Seokjin never did see himself as the morally right hero from those dreary Marvel comic books despite the allure of their skintight spandex and ostentatious capes. No–– Seokjin is of a higher calling, one where the hero needs to pull his dirtiest tricks in order to save the day.
Which is why Seokjin finds no error in his ways when he decides to stalk Jimin and Hoseok throughout their day, trying to pinpoint which clogs in his JiHope machine need oiling and lubing.
Nothing is ever too much for Kim Seokjin. In fact, he’ll go out of his way to follow them to their homes if he has to, but luckily (for Jimin and Hoseok), he doesn’t need to go that far. In fact, it’s a downright fucking miracle that his intuition from this morning had been correct, made apparent by hour ten (10) of his stalking misadventures:
It’s nearing five in the afternoon. Kim Seokjin’s patience and determination has been put to the test before, but never like this. He could never ever imagine himself setting foot in this damned place, what with its overflowing abundance of knowledge, nerds, and public displays of integrity. He nearly gagged the moment he took one step in the library, and not even the thought of seeing Jimin and Hoseok together was enough to settle the bile climbing up his throat.
To make matters worse, you were there too. Not that Seokjin particularly cares (he does) that you are, but there is something… annoying about seeing you just sitting there, teaching Hoseok like it was normal*.
[Addendum: It is fucking normal. As per usual, Kim Seokjin is a dipshit who has never worked a day in his life and does not understand the notion of helping others study for their courses. To this day, I can’t understand how he’s passing his classes, though I’m kind of afraid of finding out how. Some things are better left… unsolved. Noted by: Min “I’m-not-paid-enough-for-this” Yoongi.]
He had been busy following Jimin around before this, but he was forced to change targets when one of his adoring fans had distracted him while asking for an autograph, causing him to lose track of Jimin entirely. It was of little consequence, however, given that he knows that Jimin was also going to be tutored by you later on anyway, so he just hopes that Jimin doesn’t do something stupid while he’s out of sight for the time being.
Normally, he’d try to find out where Jimin was going next, but the hardest part about following Jimin is that he didn’t have a fixed schedule like Hoseok did. Even Seokjin didn’t quite understand what Jimin was majoring in, and he prides himself in knowing every single detail of both their lives. But for now, it didn’t matter; at least Seokjin was left with one schedule to follow, so it made sense to just let Jimin be and go to wherever Hoseok was probably at the moment.
When Seokjin had finally located him walking out of his last class, Hoseok hadn’t appeared all that different from his usual demeanor. A bit dazed maybe, but that could be brushed off due to the essay he had to cram for that morning (a fact that Seokjin had learned through various connections). He walks lazily to the nearby library where he would be meeting you, and with a heavy heart, Seokjin follows suit.
You were already there when the two of them arrive. Seokjin is lucky when your eyes train automatically on Hoseok, ignoring him completely. In any other scenario, Seokjin would’ve felt incredibly scorned by this. He would’ve immediately stomped over to where you sat, making sure to announce his presence to you and everyone else within a fifty-foot radius. But today was not an ordinary day, so Seokjin is forced to hold his tongue and save his bitchin’ for another day. And so, he quietly slinks away to a seat a few tables away, his contemptuous aura causing all the previously seated students to vacate the table in a rush.
Much to his chagrin, it feels like Seokjin has just wasted an hour as he watches the two of you being productive (Seokjin lets out a shudder), not even bothering to film your tutoring session due to how little information he was getting. The only point of interest is how pissed off you seem, though it’s not like Seokjin has ever witnessed you in any other state anyway. He watches as Hoseok’s sunny disposition slowly chips away at your foul mood, and to his awe and surprise, sees you crack a smile just as the hour was about to pass.
It isn’t like that was important to Seokjin, though. So what if he noticed that you were happier with Hoseok around? It’s not every day that Seokjin catches you in a good mood (and he reluctantly admits that it’s always nice to see you smiling, even if his presence unfailingly causes a deep-set frown to appear on your lips.)
That was of little importance, he told himself.
Seokjin had hoped that when Hoseok’s tutoring session would end that he might manage to see him and Jimin cross paths. Unfortunately, it seems like Hoseok has other plans as he quickly shuffles his things into his bag, looking apologetic as he waves a hasty goodbye to you. You and Seokjin gaze at the empty spot he has left in his wake, both of you knowing even without Hoseok’s admittance that this rift between him and Jimin was far deeper than either of you had imagined.
Seeing Hoseok so skittish has a terrible effect on one’s psyche, and Seokjin feels despair growing in the pit of his stomach at what might be an unsalvageable situation for the JiHope community.
“Nonsense!” his inner-voice (that suspiciously sounds like you) chastises, whacking him with a proverbial rolled-up newspaper. “There is no such thing as unsalvageable when it comes to the magnificent Kim Seokjin!”
“You’re right,” Seokjin says (out loud), slamming his fists on the table. The jittery librarian’s assistant by the front desk jumps up in surprise, but Seokjin pays him no mind.
Seokjin is so immersed by his own internal monologue that he doesn’t notice the aforementioned librarian’s assistant leave his station with a small handwritten note clutched tightly in his hand. Seokjin also doesn’t notice when he speaks to you with pink dusting the apples of his cheeks before returning to his desk, sans note*.
[Addendum: I’M SO MAD WHY DOESN’T ANYONE NOTICE FUCKING JUNGKOOK??? NEXT TIME I SEE SEOKJIN IT’S ON FUCKING SIGHT HOW DARE HE NOT SEE MY LIL BABY WALK TO HIS ***** AND FULFIL ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS? I’M GONNA KILL YOU KIM SEOKJIN! (Angrily) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
It doesn’t take long for Jimin to arrive, and he’s kind of hard to miss with how loud his entrance is. Seokjin nods in approval as the younger enters the drab library with an astounding flourish, complete with his hair gently flowing in the (nonexistent) wind and hips swaying to the (nonexistent) beat.
None of this out of the ordinary, especially with how unfazed the general library populace was to Jimin’s commotion. What is a little different, however, is the beaming, oversaturated, downright diabetic smile on his face, complete with his signature eyes creased into their cute little crescents.
It isn’t that Jimin wasn’t a naturally sunny person; on the contrary, his kind and gregarious personality is what drew Seokjin into shipping him with Hoseok in the first place. But there was something about this level of overflowing giddiness that is a bit… disconcerting, for lack of a better word.
Even you appeared to be dumbstruck by Jimin’s odd mood. You squint curiously at Jimin, taking his worksheets from his hands without another word. Seokjin covertly takes out his phone to pretend to take a selfie, but proceeds to tape the whole tutoring session for him to review later that night. He strains his ears to try and catch the bits and pieces of your conversation with Jimin, but he’s left high and dry when he realizes that you were the type who actually liked to whisper at the library, further foiling his plans.
“Dammit,” he mutters to himself, hastily shoving his “textbooks” into his sling bag as he moves to a table slightly closer to the two of you. He doesn’t bother unpacking them again on the table, foregoing the pretense that he was actually there to “study” when in fact he had goals much loftier than those of an ordinary university student.
He carefully adjusts his camera, trying his best to stay out of your and Jimin’s view. He cranes his head forward as far as he can, face crumpling (handsomely) from the strain.
Seokjin had missed it when he was busy relocating to his better position, but it seems like you had finally gotten fed up with Jimin’s strange behavior. He only sees Jimin look shocked by your irritability, but that quickly fades away as his previously dopey smile comes back at full force. Knowing you, your eye is probably twitching right now, but Seokjin attributes that to the stick permanently stuck up your ass.
“It’s, umm…” Jimin looks extremely bashful all of a sudden, and Seokjin makes sure to zoom in on his face for better analysis later. There’s a slight pause, and both you and Seokjin wait for Jimin to continue. “Do you know… uh…” He takes a deep breath, blushing all the while. “Y/N, you know Lee Sera, right?”
Since you’re faced away from Seokjin, he doesn’t get to see what type of reaction you might be sporting on your face. He has a guess though, and that’s mostly because he already knows what Lee Sera means to you.
Seokjin only just saw the forum post this morning when he was going through his social media. Since he was one of the only people who actually knew you were the author, he’d known from the get-go that Lee Sera had probably written that post revealing herself as the author as a way to get easy clout. Nothing annoyed Seokjin more than people getting more famous than him, so he was honestly a strongly-worded call-out post away from revealing the truth to the masses, but was eventually stopped by the thought of your desperate face from days ago.
As much as Seokjin was a slut for drama, even he isn’t that mean. He can be mean in other ways, such as by putting an ugly filter on your face as he continues to videotape you without your consent. Case in point:
“What?” you say, almost shouting. Unbeknownst to you, there is a pooping baby currently superimposed on your forehead. The film looks shaky at best, but that’s all because of how hard Seokjin is shaking from trying not to laugh.
“Do you know if she likes anyone?” he replies, still dreamy. The AR pooping baby is also on his head, but Jimin manages to pull the look off.
Seokjin waits for your explosion to come, but he underestimates your self-control because he completely misses the next few words you say from how calmly and quietly you speak, though he only imagines that you must be on the way to a mental breakdown soon enough.
The calm before the storm, Seokjin thinks giddily to himself. He could always post your mental breakdown on Youtube for a couple thousand views. C’mon… let’s go viral, baby!
Jimin watches you eagerly from the sides and waits for your response, but you’re too busy short-circuiting right in front of him to give one. Seokjin almost feels sorry for you, but he’s too busy trying not to burst into laughter as it is. God, you’re such a fucking sad mess.
Lucky for you, your timer goes off to signal the end of your tutoring session, and Seokjin notices the way your shoulders slacken with relief. And Jimin seems to have forgotten all about his query because he’s started to pack his things already, humming softly to himself. Once he finishes, he pulls out his phone to read something on his screen, tapping away through his social media as he waits for you to say goodbye.
You’re too busy packing away your own things that you don’t notice when Jimin’s eyes begin to bug out, his mouth dropping and his nostrils flaring with the intensity of his breathing. When he scrolls a little bit further down, he lets out a sharp gasp, catching you and Seokjin off guard.
Jimin has just seen the post, didn’t he? Either that, or he saw porn on his timeline, though Seokjin doesn’t think that would excite Jimin as much as the former would. You seem to guess the same, judging by how stiff you become at his exclamation.
“Y/N! Y/N, she–– she’s––!”
Your fight or flight instincts activate, and Seokjin has to scramble after you as you powerwalk out of the library, desperate to get away from Jimin and his revelation. Unfortunately, you’re not entirely in your best shape right now, so it would be an absolute miracle if you were ever to outpace Park “abs of steel” Jimin. Jimin continues to titter beside you, unaware of the waves of tension running rivers down your form.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she? And she’s so humble to have kept quiet about the whole thing, too. Wah, she’s so…” Seokjin hears Jimin say, and he has to stop himself from snorting at how blatantly love blind Jimin seems to be. Seokjin isn’t anywhere near as good as you when it comes to writing (though he hates to admit it), but even he knows that Lee Sera isn’t as capable as you are. Jimin must really be a sucker for bitches in tight skirts and basic nude pumps because honestly… Why have the knock-off when you can have real Gucci?*
[Addendum: Hey it’s me again… Just wanted to say… Why is Seokjin lowkey kinda making me wanna ship him with Y/N… This is for real weird… Stop this… I’m scared… Noted by: Confused Min Yoongi.]
“I never really paid it much attention, but now that I’m rereading the poem… she’s so talented.” Jimin continues to gush, and you look half a second away from painting the walls with your vomit. Your head is bowed, so you don’t notice when the library doors open and a student in a loose white shirt and flowy black pants enters, looking as far removed from the environment as Seokjin did. “It’s no wonder it blew up so much, she’s such a gifted––”
“Who’s such a gifted what?” the new intruder asks. Kim Taehyung stops right in front of you in all his indie glory, and the sudden apparition of another of one of your “muses” must have frayed your unraveling mind even further. Seokjin is already turning his camera to your face with a dramatic pan left zoom, the pooping baby filter still on your head. It slips a turd onto your grimacing face.
Jimin, ever the sweet himbo, has already forgotten about you and instead rushes over to Taehyung with the news. “Tae! The author of that poem you’re always raging about––”
Seokjin watches with interest as Taehyung elbows Jimin strongly in the gut, a strong blush coating his cheeks.
Jimin continues, undeterred. “The author of the poem, it’s Lee Sera! I know I always ignored you when you talked about it, but now…” Seokjin has already stopped listening in favor of watching the way Taehyung’s expression slowly morphs from bashful embarrassment to careful indifference. His eyebrows raise even further when Taehyung’s gaze sweeps towards you, unwavering despite the animated prattlings of his best friend beside him.
Inch-resting… Inch-resting indeed…
Seokjin leaves then, not wanting to be caught by any of you as he slinks away unseen. He stops his recording, an array of thoughts swimming through his head as he tries to piece together the puzzle in front of him. He’ll need to follow you, Jimin, and Hoseok again, and he knows in the pit of his stomach that the tsunami is fast approaching.
x x x x x
And so, Seokjin follows the three of you around like a parasite, waiting for any of you to drop the ball on him. It’s the next Monday now, and he’s still not any closer to witnessing the “climax” of his JiHope prophecy. While he is aware that Lee Sera is undoubtedly going to be the catalyst for breaking his ult ship, he can’t exactly fix the problem unless something wrong happens first.
Of course, he could always slip a laxative into Sera’s disgusting tummy tea when she isn’t looking, but Seokjin finished using all of them up when he slipped them into your breakfast a few weeks ago. Plus, drinking tummy tea is punishment enough, so he’ll hold his punches for now.
Seokjin has a strong feeling that today is going to be the day where something finally shifts. He doesn’t know why he thinks this, though he likes to tell himself it’s a God-given gift of JiHope senses, but he digresses.
He’s starting to lose hope in his trusty JiHope senses, however, when he watches another fruitless tutoring session between you and Hoseok. Man, if not for the fact that Seokjin was a delulu JiHope shipper, he’d totally be the type to shove Hoseok down the toilet in middle school. That dude… he’s too smart and studious for him, and Seokjin is always threatened by anyone who can get a score above 4 in an exam.
Hoseok leaves in a rush as per usual, and Seokjin has since figured out that it wasn’t because the English major was keen on rushing back home to jack off. Hoseok’s eyes search around frantically as he exits the library, like he’s afraid of running into a certain someone. It causes Seokjin’s grip on his pencil prop to tighten, so much so that he snaps it in half when he sees it happen for the third session in a row.
The situation in the JiHope fandom is much worse than he can ever imagine, and Seokjin resolves himself to fix it no matter what. He’ll even ask you for help, if worst comes to worst.
Hoseok practically leaves a dust trail in his wake, hurriedly vacating the premises just as you say goodbye. Just as Hoseok leaves, Jimin enters the scene with his signature bubbly laughter echoing through the rows of shelves. Seokjin turns his head towards the sound, but he can feel something is amiss already. There’s… someone with him.
I can smell the cheap drug store perfume all the way from here. Seokjin sneers to himself, crinkling his nose as the sound of another pair of footfalls confirms his suspicions right away. When he turns to look at you, the look of utter rage and disbelief on your face is almost enough to make him forget about the horrendous stench of Lee Sera.
Sera tears herself away from Jimin when she catches sight of you, and Seokjin’s heart clenches when he sees the utter look of confusion replacing the grin on Jimin’s face. She was just draped over Jimin’s arm a few seconds ago, but the complete 180 definitely must have bewildered the poor lovesick fool.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lee Sera craved the attention she was being given after coming out as the “author” of the poem, though Seokjin finds her neediness distasteful. As someone who loved being in the limelight, Seokjin didn’t go around taking other people’s credit for his success! Clearly, he was the better one (as he always is in any situation).
Anyway, point stands: you look like you’re about to shit yourself from anger. Seokjin isn’t really listening to the conversation between the two of you, instead focusing on both of your body languages. Sera is playing the role of the remorseful peasant, begging for reconciliation from you, the ireful landlady who refuses to watch another second of her quivering lip.
It’s all very dramatic. Even though Seokjin is mostly recording the fight for analysis purposes, he’s probably going to keep the video for archival purposes as well. The rage, the hurt, the chaos… Seokjin could turn this entire narrative into its own wildly popular musical! He would obviously play himself as the omnipotent, all-seeing jack-of-all-trades, and you’d probably be played by some hag he can cast from the street. Seokjin can almost feel the Tony award jutting up his ass.
Slap! Seokjin jerks to attention and his dreams of his musical fade as he watches, slack-jawed, at the aftermath of your rage. The sound reverberates so loudly that Seokjin feels his ears ringing. In his surprise, he instinctively turns off his camera, ready to go and join stop the fight. Before he can take a step forward, however, a whirlwind shoves past him in a blur, but Seokjin already knows from his lean form that Hoseok had come to intervene. Seokjin hadn’t even noticed the lilac-haired boy was still around the library, but it doesn’t matter now that he’s here to save the day like the bishounen protagonist that he is.
Hoseok holds you back, but it does nothing to quell your anger. “How could you say that to him!” you cry, arms struggling to free themselves from Hoseok to throttle Sera. You look a bit like a rabid animal, teeth bared as you squirm in Hoseok’s hold.
To the side, Jimin chokes up in silence. He’s begun to regain his senses, limbs shifting as he prepares to escape. Seokjin doesn’t miss the shine in his eyes, tears forming and threatening to fall. He turns on his feel, high-tailing out of there without another word.
Hoseok says something into your ear and you nod mindlessly in response. He lets you go, watches as you chase after Jimin. His jaw is set, fists clenched by his sides, but he doesn’t make a move to follow. He takes one last look at Sera’s bamboozled expression, tuts angrily to himself, and walks away in the opposite direction.
Seokjin is speechless.
What the fuck was that? Seokjin isn’t a stranger to the current happenings of your sad love heptagon, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It probably could have been solved much sooner if you just confessed to him already, but he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the drama*.
[Addendum: She literally does not have a crush on Seokjin. If she did, I’d block her immediately. I didn’t raise Y/N for her to fall in love with this psychopath. PLEASE. Signed: Min Yoongi.]
No, Seokjin isn’t confused about the whole Sera thing. What he’s more confused about is why Hoseok isn’t going to comfort his boyfriend lover homie like he’s supposed to! Something must have caused a rift in their friendship, and Seokjin is determined to find out and fix this mess once and for all! There’s no need to fear for Seokjin is here!*
[Addendum: “Hallelujah!” said no one ever. I hate this dude. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
x x x x x
After spending an inexcusable amount of time planning and plotting later that night, Seokjin comes to campus early the next day to put his incredibly profound plan into motion. Lucky for Seokjin, he’s equipped with a myriad of skills that go beyond that of acting and being a nuisance, so it comes as no surprise that he’s quite handy with Photoshop. He uses his Amazing Incredible Fantastic Photoshop skillz to their limits to print out a dozen or so fake posters for a new dance exhibition on Saturday.
Why? Because Seokjin is a genius of course! He knows for certain that Jimin will want to attend the exhibition to cheer himself up after the whole Sera debacle. He always did like watching the university’s dance club from the windows, always wistfully looking but never joining even though he COULD dance if he WANTED to but of course he wouldn’t! Because his beloved Hoseokie-hyung wouldn’t be there to be his partner and it’s all very sad and romantic, yadayadayada… Long story short, Seokjin is whipped for this BL trope and he will die on this hill if he has to!
However, Hoseok is going to be a bit harder to bait... He’d never be caught dead attending a dance exhibition, so Seokjin has to scavenge the last remaining brain cells he has to think of an event that Hoseok would want to go to. He settles on making a fake poster for a book signing by Pi Ness Hughman that is “mandatory” for all English Literature majors to attend. He even goes the whole way and makes a spoof e-mail to send to Hoseok, and no, Seokjin will not be explaining how he did that because he might be bordering on being a criminal, but that doesn’t mean he wants other people to be criminals too. That’s just how great of a person he is!
And what does any of this have to do with anything? Well… He’s going to lock them together inside a classroom and hope that they solve their differences there. Is Seokjin certain that his plan is going to work? Not at all. Is it more likely to use this as an excuse to get inspiration for his upcoming 100K slow burn enemies to lover fic that he’s been planning on starting? Absolutely.
Point of the matter is that Team Kim Seokjin never loses, and he’ll still end up on top even if everything goes to shit, and that is honestly all that matters.
Seokjin proceeds with his plan, going as smoothly as he can. He places the posters around areas that he is sure the duo would pass by. He also makes sure to accidentally “misplace” other posters and advertisements on the cork board that might serve as distractions, but you didn’t hear that from him. He watches stealthily from the shadows, carefully keeping track of their movements to make sure that they see the posters and that everything goes according to keikaku*.
[Addendum: Hey, it’s Yoongi again. I just wanted to say that I saw Seokjin when he was doing this because I caught him taking down some of the ads near my residence, and let me just say that his version of “making sure they see his fake posters” is literally just shoving the papers in their faces and then running away as soon as he can. So, I guess he did succeed on what he aimed to do, but was it moral? Was it just? Well, dear reader… I’m leaving that judgment up to you. (Tiredly) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
It’s Saturday afternoon and Seokjin has just finished setting up his “trap” when he hears footsteps approaching where he was. He quickly jumps inside a nearby utility closet, keeping the door ajar to observe the upcoming interaction. Seokjin doesn’t even need to look to know that it’s Hoseok who has arrived first, always notoriously strict when it comes to scheduled meetings. He begins to worry, realizing belatedly that Jimin is the exact opposite of Hoseok when it comes to things like this, and while that makes for a good fanfic couple trope, it doesn’t really help Seokjin in this case.
He watches Hoseok peek into the classroom, brows scrunched in confusion as he must wonder why nobody seems to be at the supposed book signing. He snatches the poster from inside his satchel, squinting at the meeting details that should say that his class was supposed to meet at this very much abandoned classroom in the Law building. For how smart Hoseok is, he certainly didn’t question the sketchiness of the venue that Seokjin had chosen.
Hoseok taps his shoes against the linoleum floor, lips pursed as he debates on what to do. Just as Seokjin is about to blow his cover and just shove Hoseok into the classroom himself, a loud bang resounds from the end of the hall. They both flinch, looking over to see a head of red hair zooming towards them.
Jimin is dressed haphazardly in a ripped jean jacket and comically short shorts – you wouldn’t be able to tell what season it was based on his clothes alone. He looks like he’d just jumped out of bed, what with the noticeable drool stain still caked around his chin. He grinds to a halt in front of the classroom, breathing heavily through his mouth and still not yet aware of the company he has found himself with.
“Jimin? What the fuck?” Hoseok exclaims, staring incredulously at him. Jimin finally looks up, pausing in his heavy breathing to stare back.
He straightens up, pointing an accusing finger at the elder. “GASP! What are you doing here?”
Hoseok points his own finger. “Did you just say ‘gasp’ in real life?”
“I asked you first!”
“I asked you second!”
“Well,” Hoseok coughs awkwardly, gesturing to the empty classroom mindlessly. “I’m supposed to be here for a book signing, but I feel like I got a fake ad by accident.”
“Hah! Foolish of you,” Jimin snorts, nose high in the air. He procures his own fake poster from his short pockets, presenting it to Hoseok. “You must be Miss Steak Anne, because this classroom is supposed to be where a dance exhibition is being held. I knew you wanted to watch them dance! You’re just trying to cover up your embarrassment!”
“What?” Hoseok splutters, snatching the poster from his hands. He reads it, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin’s masterpiece of deception. “Dude. The poster is fake too. They spelled ‘dance’ like ‘dunce.’”
Jimin takes it back, slack-jawed when he sees that Hoseok was right. “What the fuck,” he says. He groans, smacking himself in the face. “I’m the foolish one now!”
Before Hoseok can retort, Seokjin chooses that moment to burst forth from his hiding place. “Hello, boys!” he greets, not waiting for a response. The two boys jump in surprise, but they don’t even have time to scream before Seokjin promptly shoves them into the classroom. He clicks the lock in place, grateful that he scouted this place during his first year in case he’d ever need somewhere to lock his unsuspecting classmates in*.
[Addendum: Me. It was me. He locked me in there when I told him JiHope was the worst ship on campus. Y/NKook for life! Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
“Hey! Let us out!” Jimin yells from behind the door, his tiny fists banging uselessly against the door. Seokjin cackles maniacally from the outside, doing a funny dance through the frosted glass window.
“Not until you guys fix whatever angst bullshit you have going on! I’ll be back in an hour. Until then, homos!” Seokjin singsongs, skipping away from the mess he created. But not to worry, dear readers, for Seokjin had planted microphones all over the classroom in advance so that we may all be privy to the ensuing drama/hotness courtesy of JiHope! Oh, how incredibly big-brained of him! The following is a transcript of the aforementioned recording because, as you know, Seokjin always wins.
Transcript by Min Yoongi:*
[Addendum: Paid-slash-blackmailed, by the way. I would never do this willingly. He knows too much about me… It’s sickening but also he offered to buy me chicken nuggets and I’d be an idiot to decline that. Anyway, here’s this pile of shit. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]
[0:00] *heavy banging from Jimin’s tiny baby fists*
[0:10] Jimin: Ugh, this shit BLOWS! *proceeds to stomp around like a baby before sliding to the ground with a thud*
[0:20] Hoseok: Well, it could be worse. We could have been kidnapped by a serial killer.
[0:25] Jimin: I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin categorizes as one, but go off.
[0:30] Hoseok: *grumbling* I’m just trying to lighten the mood.
[0:35] Jimin: Oh wow, thanks soooo much. This is all your fault, by the way. Can’t believe your dumbass got bamboozled by Seokjin.
[0:40] Hoseok: How the fuck is this my fault? You were fooled too! And will you stop sitting like that? I can see everything with how short your shorts are.
[0:45] Jimin: Oh, and now you’re going to police how I dress? Bitch, people would be honored to see my nuts! They’re prized nuts!
[0:50] Hoseok: *snorts* Sure, if you say so.
[0:55] *there is a short pause and you can hear Jimin’s heavy breathing* Jimin, mumbling: Taehyung says my nuts are great…
[1:00] Hoseok: Well, Taehyung is an idiot. He probably says that shit to everybody.
[1:05] Jimin: *gasps* TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S MY FUCKING SOULMATE!”
[1:10] Hoseok: Oh, he’s your soulmate, is he? Guess you like throwing that word around to just about anybody, huh? Because last time, I remember you calling me your soulmate!”
[1:15-6:15] *literally just five minutes of silence* *you can hear Jimin crying a little bit but it’s obvious he’s trying to hold it in* *Hoseok (?) or maybe Jimin is pacing around*
[6:20] Hoseok: I, uhh... *hesitates some more* I didn’t... Mean to say that.
[6:25] Jimin: *starts to laugh hysterically* Fuck…
[6:30] Jimin: *slams his tiny baby hand against the wall again* Fuck!
[6:35] Jimin, choking up: You didn’t mean to say what? That we really were soulmates? That we used to be best friends?
[6:40] Hoseok, quietly: Jimin... No, I meant––
[6:45] Jimin: What do you mean, huh? I can never understand you. You never explain yourself. It’s always a guessing game with you and I just end up getting my feelings hurt because I always make the wrong assumptions, isn’t that right?
[7:00] Hoseok, choking up: Of course not. You’re right, I’m stupid and––
[7:05] Jimin, yelling: That’s right! You are fucking stupid! You’ve been stupid since day one and I can’t believe I wanted to be friends with you! *sniffles loudly* And I’m even stupider for still wanting to be friends with you.
[7:20-7:30] *there is a long silence except for the sound of Jimin’s heavy sniffling*
[7:35] Hoseok, sighing: I know that I don’t deserve to be your friend. I’m ashamed. I’m so fucking ashamed. There isn’t a day where I don’t regret not telling you about giving up dance all those years ago. I should’ve been more open with you.
[7:50] *Jimin stops sniffling* Jimin: Yeah. You should’ve. You should be. Asshole.
[8:00] Hoseok: And every time I try telling myself that I should apologize, I’d just get cold feet. It got even worse when you started hanging around Taehyung more... And I just... Lost it.
[8:10] Jimin, laughing harshly: Oh? So you were fucking jealous? Please.
[8:15] Hoseok: It sounds childish, but yea. I was.
[8:20] Jimin, quietly: Oh.
[8:30] Hoseok: And then when I saw you hanging off of Sera’s stupid little finger like a lovesick fool, it... It really fucking messed me up.
[8:40] Jimin: Oh my god. Was that why you’ve been so moody these past few days? Holy shit.
[8:45] Hoseok: When you put it that way... Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I’m really not a feelings guy, you know? I’m always just supposed to be the happy-go-lucky sunshine guy.
[9:00] Jimin: You’re allowed to feel, you know? Get rid of that toxic masculinity bullshit you have going on. This is why we fucking drifted in the first place!
[9:10] Hoseok, laughing hoarsely: Yeah... You’re right. *sound of a body sliding down to the floor... Hoseok must have sat beside Jimin*
[9:30] Jimin: We are literally so stupid. Do you realize how dumb our arguments sound? We’re being so childish, and for what?
[9:40] Hoseok: *sighing* I know… I’m the asshole here. I know what I did and I’m the reason why our friendship shifted. I’ve never been considerate to you and now…
[9:50] Hoseok: You probably hate me. And I used to tell myself that it’s better that you moved on but I know the reason why you never applied for the dance program is because of me.
[10:00] Jimin: I mean, yeah. That’s true.
[10:05] Hoseok: Wait, the asshole part or…
[10:10] Jimin: Pretty much everything. Yes, you’re the asshole. Yes, you ruined our friendship. Yes, I didn’t apply for the dance program because of you.
[10:15] Hoseok: *sighing* And you probably hate me, right?
[10:20] Jimin, softer: No, of course not. I could never hate you, hyung. Hell, I thought you hated me! You never hang out with me anymore! I literally only started taking those tutoring lessons from Y/N so that I would have an excuse to see you sometimes.
[10:35] Hoseok: ...oh. I didn’t know… I guess I’ve been a little bit too self-absorbed.
[10:45] Jimin: Understatement of the century, hyung. I just fucking miss you, okay? *sniffles loudly* God, I am so sick of crying all the time! First that shit with Sera, and now this…
[10:55] Hoseok: *panicking* Shit! Jimin-ah, please don’t cry… I’m such a fuck up! Why do you even want to hang around me?
[11:05] Jimin: Don’t you get it? You’re my best friend! How could I just erase years of friendship over what? Just because you don’t wanna dance anymore? Listen, I know I always pester you to go dance with me again, but I’d be more than happy just having you as my friend. I don’t care about that shit anymore! I just want you to look at me without looking so fucking guilty all the time.
[11:35] Hoseok: Well… I still want to dance. All the time, believe me. But… I can’t go around wasting my time when I made a promise to my dad.
[11:45] Jimin, hesitantly: Your… your dad?
[11:50] Hoseok: Yeah. He told me it was his greatest wish if I followed in his footsteps and became a teacher… I’m sorry, Jimin. I couldn’t just let my old man down like that. I…
[12:00] Jimin: Oh my god. You idiot. You fucking dunce. You dick for brains.
[12:05] Hoseok: What the fuck? What did I do now?
[12:10] Jimin: Have you ever considered… that you could teach shit other than English? Huh?
[12:15] *Hoseok.exe has stopped working*
[12:20] Jimin: Oh my god! I have a fucking feeling your dad meant he just wanted to see you teach kids, not necessarily become an English teacher like he was! You fucking stupid piece of shit!
[12:30] Hoseok: I… literally didn’t think. How the fuck..?
[12:35] Jimin: Are you literally just telling me right now that we could’ve escaped 3 years of stupid misunderstanding if you just hadn’t been an idiot? Give me a break! How the hell do you think you’d ever become a teacher?!
[12:50] *there is a pause before the two of them start laughing loudly*
[13:00] Hoseok: Jesus. Guess I really am the asshole, huh?
[13:05] Jimin: You think? Ugh, maybe getting locked in a classroom with you isn’t so bad after all…
[13:10] Hoseok: Speaking of… When do you think Seokjin is gonna let us out of here? I kinda need to piss and as happy as I am to be your friend again, I don’t think I wanna relive our toddler years together either.
[13:20] Jimin: *snorts* Gross. *shuffling* Hyung! Stand here! I’m gonna climb you and try to open the latch to the window over there. Shouldn’t be that far of a jump. Then I’ll just open the door for you.
[13:40] Hoseok: Jimin, are you insane? That could be dangerous! Let me do it.
[13:50] Jimin: You and what? Your skinny ass? Please! Do you see the gloriousness of this ass? I can get us out of here in no time.
[14:00] Hoseok, whispering: Assuming you can even squeeze through the window…
[14:05] Jimin, yelling: EXCUSE ME? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THIS ASS HAS WON ME MANY FREE MCDONALD’S HAPPY MEALS IN MY DAY––
End of Audio
x x x x x
Yoongi pauses from his typing to recheck the file, making sure he hadn’t accidentally paused the recording. When he sees that the audio does end there, he leans back into his chair, letting his headphones fall back to settle around his neck. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick text to Seokjin to ask what happened to the two stupid lovebirds.
#btsghostie#btsguild#bangtanarmynet#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#bts reader insert#bts#bts fluff#bts angst#jimin scenarios#jimin imagines#hoseok scenarios#hoseok imagines#seokjin scenarios#seokjin imagines#bangtan#bts fanfic#LMAOOOOO this..... was a shit show#anyway next chapter is gonna be angst city and idk about yall but its gonna be Ruff From Now On
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i don’t want to fall in love, if he won’t be here next year
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, wee bit of angst
Word Count: 3.9k
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: feelings, soft kookie, swearing, kissing
Summary: The universe was evil to make you spend Christmas Eve alone with your best friend who you definitely are not in love with.
A/N: This is for the lovely @namluve through @btswriterscollective Secret Santa project! Happy holidays, love! Sorry that it’s at the later end of the posting period, but I hope you enjoy!
“For fuck’s sake Jungkook, can’t you unzip your own damn pants?”
“It’s not my fault they got stuck,” he whined, back arched awkwardly as he attempted to see what he was doing, “and I can’t see it because the zipper is in the fucking back.”
You sigh. The mall had started using Santa suits with the zipper in the back after some curious kid showed off Jimin’s candy cane boxers to the entirety of the shopping center last year. Now, your unfortunate best friend had managed to get the damn thing stuck.
“Move,” you frown, taking the zipper from him. You wiggled it back and forth a couple times before it finally moved down the rest of its track.
“Oh, thank god, I thought I was gonna be stuck in these forever.”
“God, you’re so overdramatic. It’s a wonder you make it through the day without me babying you every step of the way.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. You were the one who almost burnt down the kitchen making ramen.”
You roll your eyes.
“Whatever.”
You continue to strip yourself of your itchy elf dress and the god awful red and white striped tights to match. It takes everything in you not to glance over at Jungkook who is now inevitably just in a muscle tee and tight black underwear.
So what, your best friend was one of the prettier humans to ever grace this planet? You were a grown woman. You had self-control. And you definitely didn’t want him to bend you over this sticky locker room bench and fuck you into the next century. You don’t even need to think about the fact that you were maybe, kinda, sorta, totally, irreversibly in love with him.
“So it’s just you and me tonight, huh?” his voice is less agitated, now that he’s free of his confines.
You snuck a glance and were happy to find him in matching grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. Still deadly hot, but your panties would stay dry. For now.
“Yeah, I suppose. I’m gonna miss our holiday ragers.”
Normally, you would spend Christmas Eve getting black-out drunk with your friends. This year, however, most of them were going home to their families or had started families of their own. Which left you and Jungkook alone with each other for the first time in years.
You were nervous. And you hated that. There was no reason why you should feel like throwing up at the prospect of spending an evening with your best friend. You had done this a million times, why was this time so special? Maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you spent more than two hours alone with him.
Ever since Jungkook started dating some girl from his animation class last year, the time the two of you spent together had decreased drastically. You couldn’t blame him, everyone around you was finding themselves in long-term relationships, excited to build a future now that college was almost over. He was just doing the same, and for a while, you thought she would be the one (a thought that left you crying in your bed for a week). You’re embarrassed to admit how pleased you were when Jungkook arrived at your doorstep four months ago, piss drunk at three in the morning to tell you she had cheated on him.
That was the last time you had spent a decent chunk of time and he was either crying or asleep for most of it. But now, here you were, following Jungkook to his beat-up Toyota Corolla, with the intent to spend the night with him. And while he hadn’t shown so much as the slightest hint that he may share your feelings, you couldn’t help but hope.
Three hours later, your nerves have been calmed by the half-a-bottle of wine you’ve downed. Your face is warm, but the spot on your thigh where his hand rests is warmer. Jungkook had convinced you to watch the Holidate despite your better judgment, and now you wanted to bleach your eyes.
“I can’t believe we watched that,” you groan into his shoulder, “I should be able to sue the production company for the two hours of my life that just got wasted.”
Jungkook lets out a buzzed giggle at your complaint, body shaking lightly next to yours.
“It was terrible,” he agreed, “but Seokjin said it was good.”
“Jin has a terrible taste in movies, and you know it.”
“True.”
He turned to look at you, little sparkles in his doe eyes as he gave you the sweetest smile. Your stomach flips.
“So, what do you want to watch?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Do we really have to?”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love Die Hard just as much as me,” you slap him playfully, “besides, you know you’re going to make me watch Love Actually after this.”
“Whatever.”
“You know it’s true, Kookie. We all know you’re a hoe for Bruce.”
“Am not.”
“If you want to live in denial, who am I to stop you.”
Despite his vehement denial of loving the movie, Jungkook quoted nearly the whole damn thing. If it weren’t for his adorable ‘yippee-ki-yay motherfucker’, you probably would’ve smacked him.
“You didn’t have to quote the entire thing,” you grumble.
“Sorry.”
He looks up at you with his doe eyes and you melt.
“It’s fine, just don’t do it with Love Actually. It’s confusing enough as it is without you talking over it.”
“I won’t, I won’t. Just admit to me you actually love the movie though.”
“I really don’t see the appeal.”
“How can you not see the appeal? It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”
“Yeah, but it’s confusing with all the different stories and I don’t understand British people at all. Also, as a single person, it’s incredibly painful.”
“How is it painful?”
“Because I want someone to fall in love with and cuddle me throughout the holidays.”
“You have me, you know?”
“You know that’s not what I mean, Kookie.”
“What do you mean?”
He’s grinning cheekily, completely aware of how uncomfortable his question makes you. You may be in love with him, but that does not stop you from thinking he’s a little shit sometimes.
“I want, you know, a partner, someone who’ll take me on dates, and kiss me, and do other things.”
“What other things?”
“Jeon Jungkook, you know what I’m talking about.”
Despite being best friends with Jungkook since the pair of you were in pull-ups, you had never felt comfortable talking about sex with him, even before you realized your feelings. You just hadn’t had a lot of experience, limited to a few boyfriends, and the subject wasn’t one you were comfortable with. Luckily, it was a topic Jungkook hadn’t brought up. Until now.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you just want a holiday fuck buddy.”
You smack his bicep, but don’t respond. Neither does he, simply turning to the screen before him and pressing play.
You’ll never admit it to Jungkook, but you do quite enjoy the movie. Sure it was a little painful to watch a ten-year-old have a more successful love life than yourself, but the storytelling was good. By the time the credits were rolling, you were only a little embarrassed to admit there were a few tears in your eyes.
When you looked over at Jungkook, you were surprised to find a downcast face.
“Is everything alright, Kookie?”
He looks back at you and you were surprised to find tears running down his cheek.
“Oh gosh, Kook, what happened?”
He remains silent, only taking your hand in his, thumb gently rubbing over your skin. His eyes stare down at where your palms meet, and despite your best friend’s apparent distress, you can’t help but notice the warm tingles radiating from his touch.
With your free hand, you reach up to brush the tears from his cheek, a pout forming on your lips.
“It’s just,” he sighs, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes, “it’s just, I want it to, you know.”
You tilt your head to the side confused.
“What are you talking about Kook?”
“What you were saying earlier, about the cuddling and dates and shit. I want it too.”
“Oh, Kookie.”
You pull him into, clasping his neck as he buries his nose in your shoulders. You want so badly to tell him that he can have it. He can have all of it and more. With you. But you know now is not the time for confessions.
He pulls his head back to look at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite place.
“What is it Kookie?”
He looks down at this lap and then back up at you.
“I don’t want it with just anyone.”
“Well of course not, you’d want it with someone who can love and cherish you just as much as you love and cherish them.”
A dull ache in your heart was beginning to grow. He was so close to being yours, lips only inches away. But yet it seemed a mile still remained between the two of you.
“That’s not what I mean.”
You are once again sent hurling back into confusion.
“Well then what do you mean?”
“I want,” he falters, breathing unsteady like a fish out of water. He grabs your hands again, holding them tightly as if he was afraid you’d slip away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind only just beginning to grasp onto what was happening. Part of you refused to believe, refused to hope, less you were wrong.
“I want you.”
His voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear, but the words were there. You felt your body tense up, shocks running up and down your spine, sirens wailing in your head. You had hoped for this moment for months, no, years, and here you were, and you were totally unsure what to do with yourself.
When you don’t respond, he pulls away and turns to face the TV.
“I’m sorry,” you see him wince in an attempt to stop the tears that are forming in his eyes, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget that I ever opened my mouth.”
“Kookie I…”
He turns to look at you and you can’t help yourself. His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about during lonely nights. He responds immediately to your kiss, mouth forming against yours as his hands come to cup your jaw softly. Soft glowing warmth radiates throughout you and you are no longer sure whether the tears you feel on your cheeks are his or yours.
You pull away and look into his eyes and at once you recognize the twinkle dancing in them.
Love. Adoration.
He didn’t need to say the words. They were already there. Unspoken. Filling the small space between his body and yours. Radiating throughout the room.
He grabs your waist and swings your body over his so that he is slotted between his thighs. Your hair falls down around you as he stares up at you, his eyes telling you everything you’d ever need to know.
“Will you be mine?”
You nod before leaning down and pecking his lips. You want more than anything in this world to be his.
“I love you, Kookie.”
His eyes go wide, body stiff beneath yours. He slowly lifts a hand up to brush the hair out of your face.
“I love you too.”
A year later, you walk back into the living room with two glasses of wine in your hands to find him down on one knee.
#bwcssy2#bangtanhq#btswritingcafe#bangtanuniversity#bangtanarmynet#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook#fluff#fanfic#bangtan#sonyeondan
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Okay, so I don’t really talk about music much on this blog other than to post a song I’m listening to and wanted to share, but I really want to talk about this song here. See, after really liking Touch Off, I started diving into the rest of Uverworld’s discography, which of course started with checking out another of their biggest hits Odd Future, which many will probably recognize as one of My Hero Academia’s opening themes.
And my first time I was like, “Hey, this is pretty catchy!” But then I listened to it again, and again, and again, and just kept noticing things, and now...
Guys, I am in awe of this song.
And not because of any deep lyrics or stuff like that. No, I am in awe because after several listens, I realized why I kept coming back to this song in particular.
And just so we’re clear, I am not a musician. I can’t play any instruments, I can’t carry a tune to save my life, I can’t read music or really know anything about music theory. But I do know when something works, and am very good at breaking things I like down to their bare elements and figuring out exactly why they work.
And in this case, Odd Future is a song literally made out of hooks. I mean, most songs have a few hooks, some catchy melodies that stick in your head that weave in and out of the song. But with Odd Future, it’s like they went into their drawer of unused hooks, grabbed a great big handful, stuck them in a row, and somehow made it work. The hook changes every few seconds, some come back but usually with some new element, others only appear once in the whole song, and yet it still works as a complete song!
To begin, it begins with a huge punch to the face, a big (yet quick) preview of the chorus with the digitized vocals, thrumming guitars, and couple finger snaps.
Now that the song has your attention, it transitions into an ear-catching jazzy piano riff with a little digital stutter in the middle.
Okay, time for the first verse. First couple lines are sun in a high falsetto with the guitar strumming behind it and heavy distorted bass.
Then the vocals suddenly deepen into a short rap break with the noticeable “One Step” singalong English bits, broken up by high falsetto “Hoos!”
Drums kick in, and now he’s singing in a more smooth R&B style accompanied by romantic piano. Drums then cut off to give more focus on the vocals and piano. This happens in literally seconds and yet each part stands out.
Okay, first chorus time! First part is mostly the same as the intro, only the line is complete this time.
For the second part, the finger snaps are replaced with metronome percussion to encouraging clapping along, an awesome repeating single piano key kicks in, the synth starts thumping, and the vocals are suddenly undigitized (I understand that switching between digitized and undigitized vocals is something of a trademark for them, and the singer even has two microphones so he can do that in live shows, and it’s honestly kind of adorable).
HEY HEY!
Guess what, we have an early bridge for everyone in the stadium to go completely crazy! Beat drop with EDM chopped vocals while the singer repeats the song’s title and the steady percussion keeps the momentum going.
Then it slows things down just a little bit for the second verse. Back to R&B singing, only faster this time and accompanied by “Shape of You” synths for the first part.
Synths stay for the second part, but the vocals weave in and out of being digitized with more English singalong parts (What’s going on?).
Drum break!
Second chorus! Digitized vocals remain, but finger snaps are replaced by rapidly tapping the cymbals, which swiftly transitions into full percussion accompaniment.
Second part, same as the second part of the first chorus, except now the guitar and drums are just cutting loose to give it some extra teeth.
Second bridge! And now we come to another Uverworld staple, the kickass saxophone solo, now with heavy clap-along percussion and electric guitar.
Third chorus! First part follows the same melody as the first two choruses, but the vocals aren’t digitized this time to let you know we’re in the endgame, and now we have that slamming synth.
Second part is the same as the second chorus’s second part.
Time to transition into the outro, and all MHA fans know what to say here! “I KEEP MY IDEALS” motherfuckers! Final vocal breakdown, instruments go fucking nuts, and we even have a little bit of those chopped EDM vocals vaguely in the background as things wind down, ending on that lingering synth.
So...yeah. That’s why I’ve been so focused on this song. So many damned elements and hooks from so many different genres, many of them not even feeling like they should be from the same song, but somehow managing to weave together into a huge stadium crowd pleaser. Damn.
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taste-in-music’s Year End Wrap-Up
Hello everybody! We’ve finally reached the end of 2020. While I’m glad to leave this miserable year behind, one of things that undeniably got me through it was the vast amount of awesome music we got. In past years I’ve made favorite album and EP lists, but this time around I’m going to tackle them all in one go, giving reviews on the projects that had some significances to me over the course of the year. I’m going to make a post for my favorite songs too, so keep an eye out for that in coming days. Now, without further ado, let’s get started, shall we?
folklore by Taylor Swift: This was an incredible year of growth for Taylor Swift. As much as I’ve enjoyed her past music, the way she constantly felt the need to address what people thought of her always irked me, (though after watching her documentary, I do understand why she did it.) It wasn’t Taylor Swift the public persona that was most interesting, I thought. It was Taylor Swift the artist, the songwriter, the storyteller. What I wanted was an album focused on that. This year, I got one, (well... more on that later,) and it’s my favorite project she’s ever done. The tales Swift spins on folklore span across love triangles, heiresses, and battlefields, and she nails each and every one. While the chilly indie-folk influence from the likes of Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon is prominent, Swift’s warmth and charisma always cuts through the fog like a beam of sunlight. So yeah, this is my undeniable album of the year.
Fetch The Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple: I only started listening to Fiona Apple last year and had thoroughly enjoyed her music, but this album cemented her as one of my favorite songwriters and performers of all time. Everything about Fetch The Bolt Cutters is so idiosyncratic yet fits together in just the right way, like watching an entire house being dropped from the sky and falling perfectly into place. It is a testament to the creative process, emotional honesty, and breaking free from all the cages you may find yourself in, whether they be societal, personal, or those of your own making. And in a year that was so isolating, it felt like Apple was whispering everything I needed to hear right into my ear, just when I needed it. In short, my boltcutters have been motherfucking fetched.
Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers: When Punisher was announced, I had no clue how Phoebe Bridgers would match the quality of Stranger In The Alps. Upon first listen, I wasn’t sure she had. By the fifteenth time I was listening to this album and every lyric was hitting like Cupid’s arrow to the jugular, I knew she’d surpassed it. Punisher presents a sonic scope that both comforts and crushes all at once, like with the upbeat yet mournful horns on “Kyoto” or the cathartic swell on standout “I Know The End.” In my opinion, Bridgers is one of the greatest songwriters of our generation in the making, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings for her. She may know the end, but she’s far from it.
SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama: This is the album I see becoming a new shorthand for the true potential of pop excellence, a cult hit that never got its time to shine but is beloved by pop music geeks to the ends of the earth, like EMOTION by Carly Rae Jepsen. SAWAYAMA so effortlessly blends diverse genres and influences like disco, nu metal, and arena rock, and it yet it remains cohesive due to Rina Sawayama’s sheer strength as a performer. She deserves a spot on the pop girlie hierarchy, and one near the top.
Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa: I really enjoyed Dua Lipa’s debut album, but even I didn’t expect her to come through with such a fully realized, consistent, downright fantastic follow up. Future Nostalgia is a pop album that feels studied, like Lipa did her research of pop’s past as she made it. The result is an album that synthesizes several different sounds under her vision, one that is always trained ahead, and it simply slaps. In a perfect world, nearly every song on this album got spun off into a hit single.
evermore by Taylor Swift: 2020 was already my year of listening to Taylor Swift, (I went through her whole discography, cultivated a favorites playlist, and at the end of the year I was in the top 2% of her yearly Spotify listeners.) evermore was a lovely cherry to top it all off. While folklore enchanted me with its stories, evermore captivated me with its melodies. I haven’t been able to get snippets of this album out. of. my. head. for weeks now. It’s a bit less consistent than it’s older sister, (and likely to live in its shadow,) but there is still so much to love.
I’m Allergic to Dogs! by Remi Wolf: This EP is so much goddamn fun. It’s a blend of many different sounds, indie pop, electronic, maybe hip hop, I think reggae at points? It’s such a colorful, textured, quirky listen bristling with energy and undeniable hooks. “Woo!” conquered my Summer, and months later the bridge of “Photo ID” conquered TikTok. Keep your eye out for Remi Wolf in the coming year, she’s going to make a big splash.
Good At Being Young by Charli Adams: Good At Being Young was the first EP this year that I could not get enough of. It drifts through dreamy indie-pop sounds, with melancholic guitars and cloudy synths, and Adams has a deep vocal timbre that delivers tales of adolescent tribulations with just the right amount of wistfulness. Overall, it builds the perfect soundscape for a late-night drive.
Cape God by Allie X: Allie X has been keeping us FED with content. It seems like only yesterday that Super Sunset came out, and yet her output remains impressively consistent. This album has impressive highs, some lower moments, but the danceability, duets, and enticing darkness under its shiny pop veneer make it a record you won’t want to skip.
La vita nuova by Christine and The Queens: Perhaps the biggest flex of 2020 was Christine and The Queens dropping a fantastic EP and accompanying short film right out of the gate. The grooves on this are infectious, wiry, and air-tight, (the Caroline Polachek feature was another added bonus,) but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of emotional weight too.
Lighter by Donna Missal: This was one of my most anticipated albums of the year, and it’s hard to determine whether it disappointed or not. I think the only thing holding Lighter back is that This Time was such a formative album for me, (my favorite of 2018, to the uninitiated.) In fact, this album flows way better than This Time, more cohesive with its storytelling and more consistent in folk-rock sound. And, of course, Donna Missal’s vocals stun on both the bangers and the ballads.
SURF by BLACKSTARKIDS: There was no record this year that was more instantly likeable than this one. The blend of low-fi indie pop and hip hop makes for a whirlwind of sunny fun and youthful malaise that would make the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to the beach. Standouts include the opening track “SOUNDS LIKE FUN,” the chill “WIGS,” and blissful title track “MUSIC TO SURF TO.”
The Baby by Samia: I’ve had my eye on Samia since “Milk” dropped years ago. Seeing her live sparked my belief that she was an indie darling in the making, and The Baby confirmed that she definitely was. The lyrics on this album mix quiet contemplation with just enough sardonic wit and raw emotion throughout a varied selection of sunny rock bops and gut wrenching ballads. If you enjoyed Punisher, then I can’t recommend this enough.
Season 2 by Nasty Cherry: Nasty Cherry is a group that I will not stop rooting for. Their EP from last year showed their potential for nailing monster hooks, but this sophomore effort shows just how versatile they can be. This EP covers everything from Dylan Brady produced hyperpop to early-2000s reminiscent pop rock to emotional balladry, and they pull it all off flawlessly.
A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling by Magdalena Bay: This album became a fast favorite way late in the year, there is such a sweetness to Magdalena Bay’s music that makes it stick in your brain like a piece of blue raspberry bubblegum. This EP is spacey, catchy, and filled with electronic synthpop mastery, with countless catchy hooks that’ll make you feel like drifting and dancing all at once.
Miss Anthropocene by Grimes: The bubblegum bombast of Art Angels fully redefined my taste in pop years ago, so I was fascinated to see how Grimes would follow it up. On Miss Anthropocene, she leans into darker, more industrial textures, but also anchors it back to Earth with acoustic touches and some of her most introspective lyrics to date. Grimes painted a version of a world on the brink of disaster on this album, a picture that was hypnotically beautiful. And in a year where the word was a certified disaster, that was strangely comforting.
Plastic Hearts by Miley Cyrus: I’ve been wanting Miley to go rock for so goddamn long, Plastic Hearts was bound to make this list by pure validation alone. But what can I say? This breed of glossy 80s rock suits Cyrus’s rougher voice so well! I hope she stays in this lane a bit longer, but as we know, she’s one of pop’s most chameleonic figures. Only time will tell.
Where Does The Devil Hide by Zella Day: I have been patiently awaiting new Zella Day music ever since getting hooked on Kicker back in 2017, so this was one of my most anticipated releases of the year. This EP sounds nothing like Kicker, and I couldn’t be happier. It shows Day leaning even more into her influences from the past, (the 60s/70s vibes are intense with this one,) but also breathing a refreshing new life into them.
SOUL LADY by Yukika: When I imagine the ideal of pop music, what it would sound like in a perfect world, this is what it sounds like. SOUL LADY is full of pristine, glossy production and catchy hooks that feel like they’ve come down from the clouds. I’ll admit that I can have trouble forming a connection with music when I don’t understand the lyrics, (it’s something I’m working on,) but this album cleared that hurdle with ease. If you’re curious about city pop or K-pop this is a great place to start.
Heaven Is Without You by Love You Later: Give me lush pop production and heartbroken lyrics finished off with a heaping helping of nostalgia and I’ll eat it up with a spoon. Love You Later has been feeding my addiction to this genre for years, and this latest helping is particularly sweet.
IN A DREAM by Troye Sivan: Troye Sivan has always supplied the bops, but it was about time that he started experimenting with his sound a little bit more. This EP offers some harder-hitting electronic textures, but also the addictive hooks that’ll keep you coming back for more.
Ungodly Hour by Chloe X Halle: These women are so TALENTED! If there is any word I’d use to describe this album it would be “effortless,” the harmonies, grooves, and chemistry between Chloe and Halle feels so natural and free-flowing. Charisma just rolls off of them in droves, I see full-blown stardom and several Grammys in their future.
Watching You by Robinson: This EP was one of the first on this list to arrive this year, and it still hits months later. Robinson’s confessional lyrics work wonders over the buoyant pop grooves, and “Don’t Say” remains one of the best pop songs of recent years.
Manic by Halsey: I respect Halsey for dipping her toes into a myriad of different genres, (synth pop, rock, hip hop, and acoustic balladry,) but it does make for a jumbled listening experience. Still, I appreciate that this album features some of Halsey’s strongest tracks and writing to date, offering greater experimentation and emotional imtimacy than album’s past.
We Don’t Stop by Aly & AJ: Should this count? It’s more a compilation of their past EP and singles... I don’t care, I’m counting it because there’s some new stuff too. This is an excellent display of Aly & AJ’s pop prowess in recent years, the hooks, vocal chemistry, and shimmery production are undeniable.
Under My Influence by The Aces: The Aces returned in 2020 with a more laid-back, groovier record than their debut, exploring a wider variety of sounds. They’re as magnetic and likeable a group as ever, each member giving it their all, but I think I’ll return to the debut more often.
Strangers/Lovers by Dagny: I’ve been anticipating a longer Dagny project, as she’s been drip-feeding us singles for a while now. This was a lot of fun, with Dagny pairing her upbeat earnestness with stories of romantic tribulation. While the hooks aren’t as memorable as her past offerings, there is still so much to enjoy. Lead single “Come Over” and “Let Me Cry” are my favorites.
DUALITY by Tatiana Hazel: I came across this via recommendation on Tik Tok and it’s a solid pop record! The music is swooning, synthy, and tinged with disco and Latin influence. The record doesn’t waste a second of its runtime, clocking in at less than half an hour and grooving the whole time.
After Hours by The Weeknd: The sonic palette of After Hours is so engaging, a neon-drenched blend of synthwave, electropop, and R&B. I’ve always felt lukewarm on The Weeknd’s musical persona of brooding, villainous party monster, so the strongest moments on this album tend to be when he subverts that in some way. Still, in full, this album is an undeniable force of smash hits, stadium-shaking ballads, and cinematic flair. I can’t wait for his Super Bowl performance.
Petrol Bloom by LAUREL: It’s no secret that this year was chock-full of 80s revival albums (there’s what, five others on this list?) LAUREL wasn’t an artist I was expecting to go in that direction after the brooding folk pop of her debut album, but her deeper timbre works great alongside the synthy soundscapes.
positions by Ariana Grande: I’ve just come to expect that nearly all of Ariana Grande’s albums are going to be growers to me. My first listen to positions was underwhelming, but the songs have grown on me more and more. This album feels like being let in on a giggly, fun slumber party with Grande and her friends. I wouldn’t call this her strongest album by far, and while I tend to prefer when she favors the more powerful parts of her range, (and her enunciations could still use some work,) there is a lot of good material here.
THE ALBUM by BLACKPINK: We may just have to stan. I checked this out after watching their Netflix documentary, and while this breed of cacophonous, in-your-face electropop isn’t something I can listen to all the time, the hooks and charisma are undeniable. It certainly makes me feel like a bad bitch whenever I’m working out.
Kid Krow by Conan Gray: Conan Gray burst onto my radar offering dreamy tracks rich with teen malaise and suburban restlessness, and a good amount of that initial appeal carries over onto this album. Kid Krow has both a larger instrumental scope and more stripped-back moments. In the end, it still feels like Gray is finding his voice as an artist, but he's giving up great bops to jam out to as he does.
Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams: Hayley Williams is one of my favorite vocalists, so seeing her venture out for a solo project was exciting. This album offers a mixed bag of danceable jams, emotive moments that showcase Williams’s powerful voice, and a few skips. But overall it showcases Williams’s strength as a performer as she tackles her past with vulnerability and versatility.
Apart by LÉON: Oh, man. This one was kind of disappointing. For context, LÉON’s self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year. This follow-up is by no means bad, but every song on her first album was instantly memorable. This one, not so much. LÉON’s vocals are beautiful, and there are some stand-out tracks, but I don’t see myself returning to this nearly as much.
Blush by Maya Hawke: Maya Hawke’s Blush was to my 2020 what Tōth’s Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary was to my 2019, (and that makes sense, as they’ve collaborated in the past.) This album is so blissful and nonchalant, and Maya Hawke has a gentle, soothing voice that feels wise beyond her years. While the writing isn’t as hard-hitting as, say, the Phoebe Bridgers album, sometimes I just want to listen to something that could rock me off into a dream world. If you like folksy, down-to-earth ballads, you’ve got a solid collection of them right here.
Dedicated Side B by Carly Rae Jepsen: Of course Queen Carly would pull through with B-sides for Dedicated, did we expect anything less? Jepsen’s brand of controlled yet carefree shimmery poptimism drenched in 80s nostalgia that never fails to put me in a good mood. This album has some lusher, more tropical instrumentation than Dedicated proper, but works great alongside it.
Missing Person by Kelsy Karter: To the Plastic Hearts fans out there, your homework now is to give this record a listen. This rock album presents pop hooks, but a lot of reckless rock fun too. Kelsy Karter has so much irresistible swagger and carefree spirit as a performer, speeding through the emotional highs and lows like she’s burning rubber in a cherry red Cadillac.
how i’m feeling now by Charli XCX: I’ll admit, this album was a bit abrasive to me on first listen. But tracks like “anthems” and “forever” made me return, and it’s a huge grower. If you listen closely, you’ll find the sugary-sweet hooks and relatable sentiments nestled deep in the crunchy hyperpop textures, begging to be discovered and eventually loved.
Jaguar by Victoria Monét: If you enjoyed positions, then check out the debut from one of that album’s most prominent co-writers. Jaguar’s concise collection of silky R&B slow-burners show that Victoria Monet’s is a superstar in her own right.
Some great albums I listened to that didn’t come out this year: Blue by Joni Mitchell, BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA by BLACKPINK, I Need to Start a Garden by Haley Heynderickx, Plastic Beach by Gorillaz, Out in the Storm by Waxahatchee, 7 by Beach House, Dummy by Portishead, Lovers Fevers by Babygirl, and Red by Taylor Swift.
Whether you liked, reblogged, or commented on a post, sent me an ask, or interacted with this blog in any way, thank you so much for all the support throughout the year! I can’t express how much I appreciate it.
What were your favorite albums from this year? Did I miss anything? Send me an ask and let me know. I’ll tell you my thoughts, or put it on my to-listen-to list if I haven’t heard it.
Here’s to 2021! May it clear the extremely low bar set by this year.
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