Please That Scene With Tae And Her Mum?

Please that scene with Tae and her Mum? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Loved the story!!!

Stuck with you

Summary: It’s the first Christmas since your dad passed away. You, your mum and sister are going to his favourite place to do his favourite thing, skiing. And yet you’re not there. Stuck. Stranded. Trapped. In seemingly the single hottest place in the world. Your transfer flight cancelled so you’re now stuck between home and your family. A snowstorm that causes all flights to be cancelled, heat that just seems wrong at Christmas, your sister crying and shouting down the phone at you, and to top it off, the most annoying man in the world who’s in the same position as you and seems to think you’re friends because of that fact. Merry Christmas to you.

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: Strangers to lovers; smut; angst; fluff; Christmas fic!

Word count: 29.6k

Warnings: First Christmas since fathers’ death, a lot of emotions off the back of this fact, sisterly bickering, family disputes, anxiety, sadness, crying, not going to lie this gets very sad in places so if this is a triggering subject please do not read, probably really inaccurate knowledge/description of stuff (e.g. the storm, fishing and places – note that I talk about skiing in Chamonix but flying to Geneva, that’s because to get to Chamonix you have to fly into Geneva, probably obvious but just in case), there’s fishing but no fish are injured/killed, explicit sexual content, oral (m receiving), fingering, safe penetrative sex, misunderstanding, some more sadness, but it’s still soft and ultimately happy.

Authors Note: Whoops I’ve done it again, a fic that I thought would be 15-20k and yet here she is, another beast. It’s a heavy topic for Christmas, but I promise it is soft and nice in places. Please, please, pleeease check the warnings before reading this as I can understand why it would be a triggering topic, otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

CANCELLED.

The word written in big bold red letters as if to further rub in the point. But there has to be a mistake, because that can’t be right.

You read it again. Check the destination name. Carefully look across to see the time of take-off. But there is no time there, just that stupid, horrible word. Cancelled.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a feminine voice sounds out overhead, your eyes are still firmly fixed on the sign above you. “We regret to inform passengers on the 14:55 flight BA0288 to Geneva that due to unforeseen bad weather the flight has been cancelled. Please can passengers of the 14:55 flight BA0288 to Geneva go to the boarding desk for further information.”

The voice continues to repeat the information while bodies start to shift around you, grumblings following them. But all you can look at is that one word. Cancelled.

You still refuse to believe it’s true. There must have been a mistake somewhere. Someone must have mixed up the flight numbers. Or maybe this is an elaborate prank, something someone thinks is funny. Because your flight can’t be cancelled. It can’t. You’re supposed to be on your way to the snowy peaks, not stuck in the airport of your connecting flight.

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The Virgin Volume

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: oral (female), hand job, loss of virginity (male)

Synopsis: This fic exists in the RMCC universe. It takes place before RMCC and is the story of how Jungkook lost his virginity. To quote Seokjin/Namjoon: “What Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him and – let’s be honest – his story is hilarious. One pump,” Seokjin laughs, sounding like a hyena. “One pump and he’s done.” // Ducking his head, Namjoon tries not to smile. “It was a rookie mistake,” he protests, defending their friend. “Jungkook was overexcited and couldn’t control himself. He got better.”

Genre: College AU / Friends to Lovers / Angst (please don’t hate me lol)

Word Count: 6,870

Author’s Note: this is the Prequel to Jungkook’s spin-off one shot from RMCC, which will be entitled The Monogamy Monologues and is coming early 2020! 

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

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I need more if this 🙈

your ride’s here

pairing: jungkook x reader 

summary: after an awful day at work, all you want to do is go home, curl into a ball, and cry your eyes out. making a new friend along the way wasn’t really a part of the plan, but you’re not complaining. 

genre: fluff; strangers to lovers 

warning: workplace harassment, feelings of unworthiness 

word count: 3.7k

author’s note: this was inspired by twitter user stopkook who made a post about jungkook as an adorable uber driver who’s shy because it’s his first day on the job. i’ve never taken an uber, so idk if some of this is inaccurate lmao. it’s short, but i hope you enjoy it!!! 

The Uber app says your driver has arrived, but upon your second look, there is no Hyundai Santa Fe in your close vicinity. You wonder if there is something wrong with the app or if your Uber driver has fallen off the face of the Earth all of a sudden. The app says he was on route two minutes ago and should have arrived by now. 

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Oh my goodness I cried like a baby

poetry of the stars

❦ synopsis: yn and her family are social pariahs a year after her older brother confessed to the murder of his secret girlfriend, who was also yn’s best friend. with normalcy as a thing of the past, all yn wants is to work through the summer and save up enough money to leave her town forever. but what happens when the job she gets hired for means working alongside the brother of the friend she lost?

❦ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, best friend’s brother au

❦ warnings: theme of murder; guilt by association; hurt/comfort; general emotional pain; minor character death (pre-fic); lots of anger; emotional bullying; lots of sadness; taehyung is a bit ‘rough’ in one of the scenes; yn gets physically assaulted by someone (non-graphic)

❦ playlist: sweet night by kim taehyung; soldier by before you exit

❦ book inspo: ‘even if i fall’ by abigail johnson (an absolute fav)

❦ word count: 25.4k

❦ dedication: @diorpark and @unstablecutehoe thank you for always being so kind in your reviews, it means the world to me <3

❦ author’s note: this fic was inspired by the book mentioned above, which focuses on murder, the power of love, and a search for the truth. this fic is angst-heavy, though it has a happy ending. despite the warnings, i hope you will give it a chance. please enjoy this a lot! happy reading~!! :]

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I definitely wouldn’t mind a series ❤️❤️❤️

Helloo rach!

May I request a drbble pt.2 for previous alien fic with jungkook🥺ofc if you have the motivation to

I enjoyed writing part one so much that of course I don't mind writing a part 2! For anyone interested here's part one. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: idk could be classed as horror/thriller?

-

His movements are fluid, the complete opposite to his harsh language. And also the complete opposite to your movements, because he’s still grasping your wrist and as he stands you have to follow.

Your knees sting as you push into the ground, give a groan of protest as you straighten them to stand. But you’re standing, wrist still encompassed, breeze lightly blowing the long strands of grass, torch dangling in your free hand.

You look up at the man – can you even call it a man? He looks like a man, he looks human, but you’re pretty sure that he is almost definitely not human.

A shiver runs through your body, not from the cold night but from shock setting in. This is why you don’t live alone in the middle of nowhere. This is why you don’t go running out to investigate strange things in the night. This is why you should have called the police first. But what would you have said? That you saw a man fall from the sky? Your mind hadn’t even fully comprehended it until recently and you know, even if subconsciously, that you couldn’t have explained what you’d seen to anyone without sounding mad. So that’s why you’re here, alone, seemingly captured by an alien.

“Wha – what do you want?” You stutter out.

His grip tightens on your wrist and he tugs you towards him. You let out a little whimper of shock, scared about what’s about to happen. Images from films flick through your mind, thoughts of his jaw contorting open to reveal rows and rows of teeth, images of a beam of light coming down and sucking you into the sky.

None of that happens. As you lean away, he leans towards you. His wide yellow eyes search your face and while you want to look away you can’t.

He opens his mouth, but rather than rows upon rows of teeth, rather than him leaning in and eating you, he speaks. That harsh clicking and rough k’s sounding out again, but this time you understand it.

“We have to leave.”

You jump, all the blood seeming to leave your body. You jerk your hand out of his grasp and the movement is so quick, so unexpected that he doesn’t have the time to keep his grip. You stumble away, push back into the long grass and hold your torch out in front of you as if a weapon.

He looks pissed. Where his features once didn’t seem threatening, they now contort into a grimace. His arms flail in the air, his gaze solidly on you even though his hands seem to be pointing at things you can’t see. And that harsh clicking sounds out, louder now as if he’s shouting at you. But unlike a second ago you can’t understand any of it.

You’re trembling, have to grasp the torch with both hands to make sure you don’t drop it.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you say with all the strength you possess, voice still wobbling.

He doesn’t stop, continues to rant at you in a language you can’t understand, continues to point. You inch away from him. Start to move backwards, eyes firmly on him, you saw how fast he moved his hand to grab you and you are under no illusion that you are unarmed in the presence of an alien.

His eyes grow impossibly livid when he notices you backing away from you. He stops talking and the silence is more terrifying than the noise coming out his mouth.

You stop, prepare yourself for what’s to come.

He moves towards you, a blur of movement. You scream, throw the torch at the blur as if to better stop it. And then turn and run.

You’re sure you’d beat Usain Bolt in this moment, your feet have never moved so fast and yet you saw the blur, you know how fast the alien can move. He should have caught you and yet you’re still running. Still free.

You head for your house, throw open the door and slam it closed behind you, turn the lock though you’re unsure what help it will be. Hot breaths leave you in pants, your chest racks up and down.

You don’t feel safe here, you can’t stay here. You move around your house, pull things into empty bags, grasp anything your hands touch. Within minutes you have some essentials packed. But you can’t help that niggling feeling that he let you go. You know he could have caught you and yet even after all that ranting he just watched you run.

The last thing you grab is a knife before you go to the front door, ease it open as if expecting the alien to be stood there. When he’s not, you run to your car, leap in and start the engine.

As you drive down the drive you look in your review mirror, can faintly see the alien standing where you left him, a small blob in the distance. Your heart banging, you twist in your seat, use your own eyes rather than the mirror to try and work out what he’s doing. He’s not moved from where you left him, is just stood staring in your direction as if to make sure you’re leaving.

We have to leave.

Those words, the only ones you understood, ring through your head. You’re leaving. Doing what he wanted, though leaving him behind.

You swallow, turn to focus back on the road, the fear still so strong that it swallows the guilt. You put your foot on the accelerator and leave your house behind. Leave the alien standing in the field.

Absolutely loved it!

Would love to see an alien fic with jungkook 🙈

Woo, this was so fun to write! I hope you like it and it's not too weird...

Warnings: talks of injuries - none of it graphic but I feel like I should still point it out.

-

It is definitely here somewhere. You saw it fall only a minute ago. Had rushed inside first, only to grab a torch and then turning on your heels you’d run straight back outside to where you saw the thing fall through the sky.

Saw the man fall through the sky.

It’s dark, the torch cutting a tunnel of light through the night. The grass long, you have to wade through it like its water. You’re careful, not wanting to step on anything, but also you need to be quick. You may already be out of time, mere minutes since it happened, but someone just fell from a height, surely to be dead on site.

The fact that there’s no where for the man to fall from doesn’t go through your mind. The fact he’s fallen from such a height he’d surely be dead now doesn’t go through your mind. The fact you have no medical experience, that even if you find the man you won’t be much help to him doesn’t go through your mind. All you think about is finding him, all you think about is helping him.

Your grow frantic, start to shout out in the hopes he can hear and reply. But you hear nothing, see nothing.

You stop, panting, eyes frantically dance around the large field as your torch light follows behind, breaths panting in the cool air.

There.

Your torch dances back to the spot you think you saw something. A hint of something. A glimmer.

You push through the grass, flatten every blade in your wake. The torch is by your side, now you’ve caught sight of him – or what you hope is him – you don’t need the bright light to guide you. The moon is enough, the man himself like a beacon calling to you.

You drop to your knees when you get to him. His head is haloed by the fallen grass, his eyes closed, lips popped open, a scattering of moles across his face, one delicately placed under his bottom lip. He looks godly, like a fallen angel.

Your force your eyes away from his face, hands dance centimetres above his skin, just avoiding contact, as your eyes do an external examination. You don’t know what you’re looking for, but there are no twisted limbs, no blood pooling under him, and as if by some miracle, his chest is lightly rising and falling.

Alive. He’s alive and your heart gives a leap at that fact, only to fall a second later. You may not have much medical knowledge, but you at least know that external injuries aren’t necessarily everything. Just because he looks ok doesn’t mean he is.

You pause, your hands just above his shoulders as you refocus on his face. He looks so peaceful. But it could all be a lie. You fingers itch to touch him, but then would it be any better to wake him? You should call for help, but out in the middle of nowhere you know you’ll be alone for a while. You need to make a decision and you need to make one now.

You press your fingers delicately to his shoulders, your touch so light that nothing happens.

“Hello,” you press your fingers a bit harder. “Are you ok?”

You sound dumb as your fingers curl to grasp even a bit of his broad shoulders, shaking him ever so slightly. But you need to say something and they’re the only words that come to your head as you lean in towards him.

His mouth moves. You lean in closer as if to catch the words you can’t hear.

“You’re going to be ok,” you reassure him. “You fell, but you’re going to be ok. I’m going to make sure of it.”

His lips move again, this time you here the whisper of something. You lean in closer, your face getting closer and closer so that now your elbows are nearly leaning on his chest.

You can hear him now, can hear his mutters, but they make no sense. The ramblings of a man gone mad. But more than that, the words aren’t anything you’ve ever heard before, no language you know.

Something cold runs down your spin. Everything slowly seems to add up in your brain, but it’s not enough for you to pull away, at least not yet.

“What’s that?” You whisper out, now so close you don’t need to be any louder for him to hear.

Your hands are still clamped onto his shoulders, your body fully leaning over his. His words get louder. The k’s are harsh, the s’s soft. Something seems to click in the back of his throat on some words. There is no language on earth like this, though you may not know every language, you at least know that.

His eyelids flutter and you’ve drawn too close, are too curious to pull away.

“Are you ok?” You whisper out again, the words struggling up your restricted throat.

His eyes go from closed to fluttering to wide open in a matter of seconds.

They’re wide, round, take up a large amount of his face. But none of those things are what makes you pull away. No. It’s the fact that they’re yellow that makes you retreat.

You can’t draw your eyes away from them even as you scatter away from him. The fact he fell from seemingly nowhere. The fact his body is still alive, no broken bones or blood. The fact he’s not speaking any language you’ve ever heard. The fact his eyes are yellow. It all clicks together. He’s not human.

Your knees scrape on the ground in your rush to get as far away as possible. Your hands start to draw away from him. But through it all your eyes remain connected. You looking at him. Him looking at you. And you’re not quick enough, let out an audible gasp when his hand moves impossibly fast to grasp your wrist. Not hard, not enough to hurt you, but enough to stop you from moving any further away.

He speaks. The words clicking and contorting, a sort of panic in his eyes as his words grow louder. You don’t know what he’s saying though, don’t know if he’s in pain or if he’s warning you about something.

“I’m sorry,” you say over him, the words sounding soft over his harsh clicking.

He pauses, his eyes wide as he looks up at you. It’s like he’s only just realised that maybe you don’t understand him. His hand tightens around your wrist, still not hard enough to hurt. And then he starts to move.