makes my night again

So baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover
That I know you can’t afford
Bite that tattoo on your shoulder
Pull the sheets right off the corner
Of the mattress that you stole
From your roommate back in Boulder
We ain’t ever getting older

(might tweak with it a bit more later… but I have work in the morning and should have been in bed an hour ago RIP)

I recently read @thecommodoresquid‘s fic One Cloud Feels Lonely and it’s literally the greatest thing ever written and America in this fic is my fav she my daughter I will fight everything for her.

also this fic is like 100% Steve angst fed to through an IV straight into your heart it’s greatlol

Holy fucking shit.

Outlast 2 is hard to stomach.

  • someone: are you excited for this night out??
  • me: more nervous than excited
  • someone: are you excited for college??
  • me: more nervous than excited
  • someone: are you excited for anything??
  • me: more nervous than exci
Insatiable

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: The Reader has a weakness for Jensen on stage.

Word Count: 1,704

Warnings: Fluff, SMUT

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! This is ONE of my fics for Smut Appreciation Day! I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always welcomed!!

Request: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing: Can you do Jensen smut, where she watches him sing on stage and get really turned on by his confidence and voice. When he gets off stage she drags him back to the hotel room before he bare can say goodbye to anyone. So very in charge Reader and with the smut - you just do your thing girl :D



Keep reading

Bodyswap AU - Part 2 ( part 1 here )

She stared at her own body through the red lenses of the mask, her shocked brain quickly putting the pieces together.

“Vader?” she asked, the vocoder failing to convey the full extent of her incredulity. Oh yes, they had a problem indeed.

Vader simply nodded, his face a mix of gravity and lingering dazedness.

She heaved herself to her feet – a process made quite strenuous by the weight of the armor  – using both hands and legs to push herself off the ground, which, unfortunately, failed to make the exercise easier. She clenched her jaws in pain as she felt a stretch in her left shoulder, as if her flesh were about to tear itself open. She leaned against the nearest shelf, allowing herself to recover a bit before she spoke again, covering the sound of her heavy, relentless breathing and of that faint something that seemed to be playing in the back of her mind.

“I think I pulled a muscle,” she stated lamely. “What happened?”

“I do not know, Aphra, though I suspect it has to do with the holocron,” he said, picking through the crystal shards that lay scattered around him.

I told you so, an old man’s voice rang out, nearly causing her heart to spring out of her chest. She felt a cold shiver crawling up her backbone, and swallowed uneasily.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her booming voice hiding the sudden panic that had her rooted on the spot. “Who said that?”

Vader arched an eyebrow, not quite certain what she was referring to.

“Who said what?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything, but if he was ‘her’ and she was ‘him’, in a manner of speaking, then there was only one plausible explanation: Force-ghosts.

“I told you so,” she answered. Oh. Right. Then he knew exactly who it was.

“Aphra, will you please tell that patronizing, backstabbing old goat to kindly dissipate and go haunt someone else?”

Aphra tilted her head in a questioning way – not an obvious motion by any means, but then he knew the collar to restrict such movements. His reaction may have been a little… personal. That was bound to raise questions. And if there was someone who would undoubtedly ask them, it was the nosy, boisterous woman whose body he was trapped in.

And Aphra was, indeed, bearing a perplexed look, her eyebrows knit together as she wondered what the kriff he was talking about, when the mysterious voice interrupted her train of thought with out a fatherly, yet utterly joyless chuckle, one that quickly died away to let her ponder what she had just heard. She took a few seconds to contemplate the situation and came to the conclusion that things might, perhaps, be more alarming than she had initially thought. She was several meters underground, in a vault that could crumble any minute, stormbound on this backwater Rebel rock – without a single bar or tech junkyard to hang at, mind you – trapped in someone else’s body ­– which was definitely not the most comfortable experience she had been through so far – and now, she could hear ghosts. Ghosts. Somebody pinch her. At least the spirit seemed to have taken Vader’s not-so-subtle hint.

“I think he’s gone…” she hazarded.

“No he’s not. He’s gloating in the shadows as we speak.”

“Who is he?”

“Someone you had better not trust”, he answered cryptically, his voice laced with unconcealed contempt. Vader knew that ghost well, too well for his own taste. Of that she was certain. Before she got a chance to ask what had happened between the two, a sharp beep from Beetee caused her head to swivel, with a suddenness she immediately regretted, wincing at the sudden tension of her neck muscles.

“Masters, Beetee is picking up several lifeform readings from the gallery beneath us.”

“And?”

“And they seem to be heading for this level. Primary analysis suggests kinrath.”

“You mean those big, slimy, venomous spiders?”

“Indeed, Mistress, and they are getting close. I might add that their venom has fascinating properties, though I rather doubt you wish to experiment them for yourself.”

“Uh… not really, no.” She turned to look at Vader, who was busy collecting the last pieces of the holocron. “Hey boss, this place is really cool and all but how about we get going? Like… now.”

The words had barely left her mouth that a spindly, mucous appendage shot out from behind a shelf, curling around its corner. A sharp, sibilant hiss answered another one, then two, then three, and part of her could sense a ravenous hunger, simmering, growing, focusing onto them as the clamor built up.

“Oh… I have a bad feeling about this.”

Suddenly the hissing turned to a din of shrieks, and the whole of the mob sprung out of the shadows, rushing towards their prey in a furious frenzy.

“Run!”

Now that sounded like a plan. Aphra took to her heels but the creatures were fast, and the weight of the armor was slowing her down. She heard and felt the swarm narrowing in on her, a compact mass of kinrath now filling the corridor mere meters behind her, some crawling up the walls to outrun the stampede.

Uh oh. This is bad.

She felt a squishy mass drop down from the ceiling and right onto her head, fully occulting her vision as it latched onto her helmet and began trying to tear it off.

“A little help here?”

Vader stopped in his tracks upon hearing her call. Aphra’s body was light and surprisingly nimble, and he hadn’t realized how much of a distance he had covered until he turned to look back. Not that he could see much – the hallways were, indeed, quite dark for the bare eye – but he could see enough to know that she was far.

“Use your lightsaber!” he shouted.

“No way, I’m gonna cut my head off!” she exclaimed as more kinraths began climbing onto her.

Yes, that would be most embarrassing. But not as likely as being turned into canned kinrath food if things went on that way.

“Would you rather be eaten alive? Just do it!” he ordered, still fumbling for his blaster. Hopefully he still knew how to use one. “The lightsaber, not the head.” Obviously. “Red button.”

Everything is red!” she exploded, finally managing to throw the animal off her head.

Fair enough.

“The one on the top!” he said, aiming his blaster at the mob.

“Okay. Okay. I got this.” She ignited the weapon and began thrashing around like a … like what exactly? No matter. It seemed to be working.

“Guys you know you’re allowed to help!” she exclaimed amidst the howling of the beasts, not bothering to dodge the spider legs she sent flying around.

“Oh, but this was so entertaining…” Triple-Zero grumbled as he reluctantly turned to his companion. “Alright Beetee, you heard Mistress Aphra.”

Both droids fired in concert, until Beetee grew tired of it and aimed his flamethrower in the direction of the melee. Piercing, dissonant shrieks of agony rang out, reverberating on the walls, but they were soon silenced by Aphra’s panicked blows.

“You nearly set me on fire!” she berated the droid.

Vader bristled at the thought. Once was more than enough.

“Shall we go now?”

Aphra nodded and handed him the saber. “I’m not saying you’re a bad shot but… I think we should trade.”

“Agreed.”

They hastened the pace and quickly reached the surface, setting foot on its dry, reddish sand, so thin that every step lifted a cloud of dust. The wind had subsided to a mild, gentle breeze, and the dim light indicated it was nearly nightfall. The surroundings were calm, without a sign of life… save for the jangling tone of Aphra’s comlink – well, his comlink, which never, ever missed an occasion to disturb him at the most inconvenient of times.

“Pick it up,’ he sighed jadedly.

“Ah, Lord Vader. Glad you finally deigned to answer my calls. What is going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Aphra wasn’t quite sure what to respond to this.  

“I… um… nothing. I’m fine, I’m all fine now. How are you?”

Tagge’s only answer was an annoyed flick of his hand.

“You still haven’t confirmed your presence at tomorrow’s meeting. Shall I see you there?”

“Uh… I… yes?”

“Good. And I still await you report on the Anthan 13 incident. Make sure you bring the file along. Tagge out.”

The hologram flickered and quickly disappeared, and Aphra couldn’t help but voice the first thought that crossed her mind:

“Wait, I’ve got homework now?”

2

I can’t believe that today marks the day that I have reached 5,000 followers. I was so ecstatic that I stopped doing college work to draw this little J-Hope to say thank you. I love you all so much and I really appreciate everyone that has followed, requested, liked and reblogged. Thank you for putting up with my shit, I promise to keep trying hard! 💚✨

Picture Perfect (pt. 5)

PT. 1 | PT. 2 | PT. 3 | PT. 4 | PT. 5

Reader x Yoongi

Plot: After finding yourself in the same situation day after day, a stranger with a camera happens to change up everything with just a snap of a button and a lot of misunderstandings.

Genre: Drama/Romance

WARNING: sexual assault

(gif to rightful owner)

Count: 7,740

A/N: I wrote this in less than two days when normally it takes me… awhile haha. The beginning is suuper fluffy (no spoilers though) and the end it gets super messed up. Why did I write this? Let’s hope there’s not too many errors…

“No, But I’ve Kissed You With It.”

I didn’t really sleep that night.

I wasn’t flustered or over-thinking what had just happened, though. I just felt sad more than anything. I felt sad because I could never have a normal night out with my friends. I felt sad because I was never going to realistically achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. I felt sad because I knew my love life was non-existent – and I especially felt sad because the only guy that did pay attention to me was a freeloader who didn’t actually like me. The worst part was that it was a Saturday night, which meant I didn’t have work in the morning and I’d have to face him.

How awkward. I hated confrontation, almost more than Yoongi. But mixing both of them together was a dangerous game.

When I did wake up, I stared at my ceiling for what felt like forever – dreading coming out of my room. I knew he was right there on the couch. There was only a thin wall separating us, really, and I prayed he had just left in the middle of the night.

No, you don’t, I sighed deeply.

I considered falling back asleep and enjoying my day off, but I knew I was just trying to procrastinate. Rolling out from the sheets, I looked down to see I was still in my clothes from yesterday.

What a wreck.

A part of me wanted him gone, but then again I had no one. The company sucked – he sucked – but it was better than what I previously had. I mean, sometimes he was nice. He had that going for him after all. He’s also not bad to look at, a small smile played on my lips briefly, before returning to the default frown I held and I shook my head. Though I tried to dismiss whatever just went through my head, I couldn’t deny it. He’s not that bad at kissing, either. Perhaps, just maybe, he had forgotten what happened last night. My heart dropped at that thought though, but I didn’t think about it too hard before I started towards the door.

The squeak of the hinges seemed dangerously loud, even with the TV that was playing in the next room over. He’s not gone, I breathed a little. I didn’t dare to call out to him though – even if I wanted to, my throat felt tight. I ended up lowering my head and quickly pacing to the kitchen to start coffee. Passing by the living room, I glanced to where he normally slept on the couch.

He’s gone.

My throat tightened more, and I tried to ignore it by thinking, “why did he leave the TV on” and, “when did he go”. I clenched my hands, the palms still achy from last nights abuse. I winced slightly, opting to reach for the remote that was close by to turn the television off. Turning back towards the kitchen, I sighed deeply again to try and compose myself. Why do I feel so disappointed that he left? Of course he would – I would.

I really should have stayed in bed.

If my throat was tight before, it was strangling me now. On the island counter, out for full display, was a box of donuts.

Cautiously, I moved around it, my eyes boring into the cardboard. Carefully, I began opening the lid, afraid to breathe. Why? It’s just pastries. I closed my eyes before I was able to see anything. Why are you so nervous? Why are you always so damn -

“Yah, you turned off my show.” Yoongi’s voice scared me, my eyes springing open to stare at the donuts. “I was watching that, you know.” I didn’t know what to feel. I was emotionally drained. I wasn’t breathing. “Hey, are you okay?”

I didn’t know how he had done it, or why, but spread out in the box were the donuts – some cut to fit into the word, “sorry”.

“Why?” Was my first word. I didn’t know what I was asking though.

I heard him cross to the couch, sitting on it. “I’m not good with words.”

“Well you just spelled one.” I finally looked up at him, my heart aching as my eyes landed on him. I’m so emotional today.

“I go out of my way to do something nice, and this is what I get?” His lips thinned, eye’s squinting. His hair was messy, a little all over the place. “Not that I expected a thanks, but I mean, I did expect a thanks.” He looked tired, like he also hadn’t slept much. “Hello?”

I cleared my throat, looking away, “Ah, thank you. You didn’t have to.” I closed the box, “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Is that true? I couldn’t answer my own question. “Did you want some?”

“Yes?” He answered sarcastically, breaking the ice-thin air. Instead of feeling surrounded by a cloud it felt warm now. Better. “Can you just bring them over here and set them on the coffee table? I don’t want to get up.”

I frowned at him, but did as he said. “The coffee table is so far from the other -”

“Then sit on the couch with me.” His face kept straight, “I don’t take up the entire thing.” I only frowned deeper.

Sitting the box down, I curled up in the corner of the opposing side he was on, leaving as much space as possible between us. He immediately reached for the donuts, pulling out one that was part of the “Y”. Yoongi took a large bite of it, his jaw working. I still felt awkward, not wanting to grab one let alone move from my tight position. It was uncomfortable, but I felt better wrapping up into myself.

“You don’t want one?” He asked, looking over while licking his lips. I shrugged, looking away as quick as possible. You can’t even look at him? Pathetic. “What’s wrong? You’re quiet, it’s weird.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes, instantly reaching for what was part of the “S”.

“That’s better.” I heard the smile in his voice. I hid my small smile by shoving the doughnut into my mouth. “Wow, you were hungry.”

I glared over at him, swallowing. “And that’s a bad thing?” He shook his head, reaching into the box for seconds. We ate in silence, my knees still hugging my chest.

I didn’t have much of an appetite, my mood still low. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him much either. Why are you acting like this? There had to be something to offset what was happening to me – why I feared him leaving so much. I closed my eyes, head leaning against a cushion, and trudged through my memories. I kept hitting dead-ends and walls before a face flashed through my mind.

Jinwoo. My first boyfriend.

We had dated for over two years as teenagers. Though we were young, we always promised to marry each other, that we’d have kids, that we’d grow old together. Looking back at it, it seemed cheesy. Everything about us screamed “gooey couple”, and we were naive to becoming adults and graduating. At first I was confused – he was a beautiful memory. Then again, it’d been six or seven years since we had separated.

Separated. I opened my eyes in time to see Yoongi finish another doughnut. He left me, I felt a boulder fall onto my chest, making it hard to breathe again. I remember.

The night of my seventeenth birthday Jinwoo had finally convinced me to have sex with him – since I was too nervous before that. The whole “I’m old now, it’s going to be fine” motto kept surging through my veins. In the end I had woken up to an empty bed and a short text message saying “Thanks, see you around”. Confused, I tried calling him and the only voice that greeted me was his voice-mail. I texted him an endless amount of times, asking him what he meant – begging him to reply.  After two weeks of ignoring my calls, not texting back, and even avoiding me at school, he finally messaged me.

How did you not catch that I was cheating on you this entire time.”

I called his best friend, desperate for an explanation. All he did was chuckle and say “I mean, he did get what he wanted.”

“What do you remember?” I finally spoke, my eyes drifting from my hands to his confused face. “From last night.”

He swallowed quickly, “Enough.” I nodded. “And I’m sorry. That was… dicky. I know I should of probably just left but -”

“No, it’s okay.” I interrupted with the words still on his tongue, “You were drunk and those things happen. You didn’t hurt me or anything, so it’s okay.” My nervousness prompted me to grab the next part of the “S”.

“I don’t think it is.” He leaned back in the couch, “I heard you crying.” I paused, not knowing what to say. “I couldn’t remember if I had done something, I couldn’t sleep.”

My hand finally reached my mouth, “That’s… embarrassing.”  I took a bite, trying to distract myself. “It wasn’t because of you. I don’t even remember doing that.” I tried to laugh. “Thanks for saying thanks though, that’s the first time you’ve said it to me, I think.”

“Sorry if I said some weird stuff. I was -”

Really drunk? I figured.” I look at him, taking another bite. Yoongi’s eyes were straight ahead, his hands clasped as he rubbed his thumbs together. You look so exhausted. “It was kind of cute.”

A blush took spread across his cheeks; his thumbs halted. “Hmm, try creepy.”

“No, I’m serious.” I smiled, setting down the rest of my doughnut, “It was more creepy that I kind of enjoyed it.” I mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Did you just really say that? “Ignore what I just said.” I looked down at my hands again.

“No, what? I didn’t hear you.” I looked up, relieved. “Just kidding.” He smirked playfully, my jaw dropping. Oh, fuck you too. I went to turn before he reached out to me, “Wait, Y/N.”

“What.” Blushing, I mumbled. I cannot believe you just did that.

“You have some icing…” His hand touched my face, his thumb that was just fiddling with his other now dragging across my bottom lip, “…right there.” Yoongi’s voice was almost a whisper, shaking slightly a lot like his hand was. I was frozen in spot, mouth slightly agape. What is he doing? Why did he do that? His thumb slowly left my lip and his hand followed before he brought them both to his own. Opening his mouth, he placed in thumb inside and sucked on it softly.

My breath hitched as my heart began beating faster. Whoa, what the fuck. My eyes left his fingers and rested on his. Instead of the usual dark and stormy presence they took a hold of in situations like this, they seemed cautious – nervous even. Never the less, though, they were still gigantic; engulfing me. What do I say? Do I even say anything? Should I act like that never happened and continue on with my life knowing this?

“I’m sorry,” his voice quivered a touch. I had never seen him like this, leaving me dumbstruck, “I think I missed some.”

Oh.

I expected his thumb to touch my mouth again, but it ended up hooking under my chin and pulling up as he gently leaned forward. Suddenly I was thankful that earlier my knees had dropped, the space had shrunk to next to none as his lips landed on the corner of my mouth, kissing the spot.

Yoongi left his lips there for a second, not a breath fanning from his mouth. His thumb left my chin, his hand’s warmth disappearing from my neck, and he dropped it to his lap. He leaned back, blinking rapidly like he was trying to concentrate. “I’m sorry, that was wrong.” He let out a frustrated sigh, “Why do I keep doing this to -”

“Hey, it’s okay.” I reached out, touching his clenched fist, “It’s all okay.”

Why is it? I leaned forward, copying what he had done except this time our lips met. Why is it he’s so manipulative?


“Are you going out tonight with Taehyung and Hoseok and all o’them?” Yoongi asked, coming out of the bathroom as he dried his hair, “I’m honestly only going because Namjoon is – he’s not, well, at least he doesn’t act young like the rest. They get annoying sometimes.” Nodding, I sifted on the couch so I was laying down on it.

It hadn’t seemed that long since he had bought apology donuts for me, but we were almost nearing three weeks since it had happened. Why are you counting? It didn’t seem like a significant event, but I felt like I had broken down one of the many walls that Yoongi surrounded himself in. He doesn’t like you.

“You’re quiet today…” he disappeared, but the sounds of a drawer opening and closing gave his spot away, “It’s weird, you should stop.” Yoongi’s voice was farther away yet it still echoed in my head.

Every time he talks it does.

“Hey, it’s weird you’re caring – you should stop.” I retorted, sighing as I placed my phone on my lap. “You’re also really talkative. It’s annoying.”

In the time that had passed – him still mooching off of me – nothing had happened between us. Not even a glace or something said that seemed flirtatious in any way. In a sense I could tell he was just trying to stay away because of what he had done, but even while I did respect that I felt… lonely. The only thing he seemed to like was his camera.

He poked his head out of the door, frowning, “Aw, now you’re just being a dick.” Turning off the light, he opened the door before coming to the back of the couch and kneeling as he rested his arms on the back. “Is it that time of the month or something?”

“Whoa that was sexist, buddy.” I shook my head as I shot him a look of disgust, “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I’ve kissed you with it.”

“I’m…” I stared at him. Yoongi’s face didn’t so much as crack a smile and his eyes shined playfully, “….not going to try to even reply to that. You’re disgusting and twisted.” Rolling my eyes, I picked up my phone and punched the pass-code in, “And ‘FYI’, no, it’s not – but thanks for checking in.”

“Jesus Christ Y/N, it’s just a joke. Chill the fuck out.” Yoongi scoffed, standing up, “I’m just trying to lighten mood, make you laugh or something.” He turned, starting towards the bathroom again.

Don’t leave.

“Yoongi stop.” I clicked my phone off, swallowing thickly, “I’m sorry I’m acting bitchy…” The comment about kissing me threw me off guard. I was finally getting used to nothing, and there he goes being the sneaky, little bastard. He tried to make you laugh, that’s it. He doesn’t like you.

It stayed silent for a moment, his back still turned to me. I was about to call out to him and apology again when his head turned slightly towards me, “Did you want to ride with me?” I tried to hide my smile, but he didn’t let me answer before turned on the light in the bathroom again, “Be ready in forty-five minutes… and look nice – my car is too nice to be treated that way.”


“I thought I said forty-five minutes, not forty-five hours.” He tapped his knee impatiently as I opened the passenger’s door.

“It was just an extra ten minutes? We’re fine, no one’s even going to be there yet. Did you text Taehyung?”

“Haha, no. That’s your job. I got enough of him just by sleeping at his house for two nights.” I closed the door and he drove off, the engine making a small rumble. “Did you really need those extra ten minutes? It would have literally made no difference.”

“Hey! It matters.” I mumbled, still buckling, “You have to match your shoes or you just look ghetto.”

“You’re ghetto anywa-”

“Min Yoongi.” I warned as we stopped at a light, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Who’s the one being dicky now?” I glared, the light bouncing off his skin as he turned his head. My tall stance faltered as his eyes met mine, my senses suddenly becoming acute to the cologne he wore. Stop, he doesn’t like you.

“Oh shut up, I’m just giving you crap.” He chuckled, and the red turned to green. “You look great either way.”

My heart took a punch – or at least, that’s what it felt like. Stop. I bit my cheek, leaning my head on the glass. He doesn’t like you. I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. Why do I keep saying that, anyways? ‘He doesn’t like me, he doesn’t like me.’ Why would it matter if he did or didn’t? I felt the car come to another stop. He doesn’t care if I like him or not…. I opened my eyes, glancing at him even though I knew he was focused on the road.

Right?

“I won’t drink much tonight.” He blurted out, his eyes shifting to me briefly, “Well, I mean, you’re getting a ride home from me right?” I nodded. “Then I won’t drink much since I’m driving.”

“Okay…? Thanks? I mean you could and then we could call a cab or something. They exist.” He’s acting weird. I eyed him, biting my cheek again. He’s acting too nice. “It’s really no problem, they’re cheap too since I don’t live far.” He doesn’t like you.

“No, no. I like my car better. Plus I’ve been trying to drink less.” The words fell out quickly, “It’s a bad habit, and I… don’t want it turning into an addiction….” His voiced reeked of excuse-making. “Yeah… those are bad, you know?”

“Okay, I’ll take your word.” I breathed out, stiffing a chuckle, “You’re acting super weird, are you okay?” He nodded, my fingers finding each other to fumble. “Ahh it’s okay though.” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised questioningly, and I shook my head. It’s really cute…

“What was that?” The car pulled in the parking lot, ‘Did you just say… ‘It’s really cute’?”

“N-no? Why the fuck would I say that?” God damn it all, you said it out-loud. “That’s not even remotely cute. What… what even is your definition of cute? Because that’s not mine.” Stop rambling, oh my God. You are making a complete fool of yourse-

“You.” He parked, shifting the gear and turning to me as he leaned into his seat. His smirk only deepened as my jaw fell open.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m not the flustered one,” He opened his door, shrugging, “and I didn’t start it.” Scoffing, I left his car. What just happened.

We walked into the bar in silence, him trudging in front of me. The sun had only just set a few minutes ago, and twilight leaked into the windows of the building. The honey color was a nice changed from the retro lights, and instead of pop music bleeding from the floors the walls echoed soft rock. I should come early more often. I looked at Yoongi in front of me, his figure walking towards the booth where we normally sat. He’s so small. Scratching his shoulder, he slid in the seat. He seems so delicate. My body slid in right next to his.

“Why are sitting right next to me?” Yoongi’s voice interrupted my thoughts. Some thoughts those were. “There’s the other side? I know the bench is rounded but you have all this room.” The tone of his voice was serious; annoyed, but a small smile hid on his lips. “Unless…”  Dipping his head into my neck, his hand rested on my thigh as my heart skipped a beat. “…you want our own room.” His lips ghosted across my ear and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I can’t breathe, I swallowed hard as his thumb pressed into my skin and began messaging it.

Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of brown hair caught my eye, “Hey Hoseok, we-we’re right here.” I cleared my throat, leaning away from Yoongi, “You’re early…” He doesn’t like you. I felt Yoongi stop hovering over me, but I was too afraid to look back at him. What was that?

“Yeah, I guess.” Hoseok slid across from Yoongi and I, “I got ready quicker than I thought I would.” He grinned.

“Unlike someone.” Yoongi grumbled, and I could just feel him eye-rolling at me. Thanks.

“At least I look nice, unlike someone.” I slid out from the booth, “I’m going to the restroom.” I need to get out of here.


By the time I had returned from the bathroom, everyone had seemed to rush in. Any trace of the sun was gone now, and to my dismay the guitars had been replaced with the electronic beats once again. It wasn’t crowded yet, but glancing at the time of my phone told me that people were only just starting to arrive. Casual Saturdays. Saturday’s weren’t as busy as Friday – of course, but the amount of people that came was still overwhelming. I wove my way through a crowd, smiling as Taehyung called my name as I arrived back at the booth.

“It’s a little crowded.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “Hoseok had to get up so that others could fill in.” I shrugged an, ‘It’s okay’ and looked at Yoongi who was at the edge of the seat, on his phone. He’s ignoring me, the little shit. “We can mash in closer if you want -” I’ll show him..

“Oh no, it’s okay. No one has to get up for me.” Yoongi glanced up curiously, “I’ll just sit with Hoseok, he’s right on the edge of the seat, anyways.” I smiled, that’s right. “Hobi, can I sit on your lap? I won’t crush you, I swear.” I leaned towards him, looking right into his widening eyes.

“Oh – uh, yeah.” He rubbed his neck, “Yeah, of course.” He sat up straighter to make room for me as I took a seat on his thigh. This wasn’t weird – I had actually done this many times before when we had a lot of people at the booth. Just not with Yoongi here.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know what I’d do.” I whispered into Hoseok’s ear flirtatiously right before I glanced at Yoongi. His eyes met mine, before he raised his eyebrows and returned to his phone in a bored manner. Oh, come on. This is ridiculous. Hoseok nodded quickly, his cheeks brushing against my nose as he smiled softly.

I’m sorry Hobi.

Taehyung’s ordered rounds came along with the waitress that Hoseok had previously flirted with. I tried not to look her in the eye because oh wow, that’s awkward but sadly she caught attention of ‘her man’. Her eyes lighted up for a second before landing on me and the position I was in, turning them into daggers as she squinted and quickly clicked away in her heels. The twelve drinks turned into only two as some took seconds – one being named Yoongi.

I thought you were driving? Dipshit.

“Who wants these? I’ll call the waitress over and get another round but… you know.” Taehyung tilted his head towards the shots, his hand already holding one.

“I will, I haven’t had one yet.” Reaching for one, my hand stopped, wheels turning in my mind. “Hey, Hobi…” A grin spread through my face, both of my hands now grabbing the last two. “You should have this one.” I placed it in front of him.

His jaw slacked, “No, no. You know I don’t drink. And I don’t as in I never.” He raised his hands defensively.

I moved my lips to his ear, “Oh please?” My vision wandered to Yoongi again, who was – finally – staring at me with a working jaw, “Come on. Just one, it’s only this one. It won’t do anything.” I placed mine into his hands and my fingers moved down to lightly wrap around his wrist and rub circles into it. “Just one.” I saw Taehyung’s eyebrow raise at me.

I’m sorry Hobi.

I’d never once seen Jung Hoseok drink a shot, let alone touch liquor, in the entire four years I had known him. He was the complete opposite of is best friend – Taehyung never missed a chance to get alcohol in his system. In a way I felt very concerned, since I didn’t know what would happen if Hoseok did end up getting drunk – I bet none of us did. His head tilted back and the drink was gone in a second, the clank of the glass following quickly after. The table stirred, everyone except Yoongi and Taehyung cheering on Hoseok.  I felt the skin beneath me flush, an embarrassed grin flooded his face.

Surprisingly, it was really easy to get Hobi to continue taking shots through-out the night. The first few were harder, but after there had been time to let the booze seep into his veins he loosened up. After every drink he took, Taehyung would shoot me a look of concern – and they only grew worse as the number went up. Yoongi had disappeared somewhere, claiming he had to go to the bathroom, but it’d been close to fifteen minutes.

“It’s really hot in here, huh?” Hoseok shifted under me, shrugging off his jacket.

“I’m sorry,” I awkwardly leaned away from him, “I can get off of you, there’s seats now. I’m probably not helping you out much.”

“No, no,” he grabbed my waist, stilling me, “you’re fine.” A blush crept down my neck, my shoulders shied into my body from the touch. His hands stayed there a second too long, before sliding down my body and resting by his legs. I distracted myself, my eyes surfing through the crowd in hopes of seeing someone I knew.

Namjoon.

I spotted the tall figure leaning against a wall near the bar stools, talking to someone who was covered from view. I felt myself looking from person to person, each a stranger. Who exactly am I looking for? I wasn’t in the best shape, I had taken a shot or two more than Hoseok and was suddenly thankful that they didn’t have a high percentage or I would have been really wasted at this point.

“What’s wrong? You’re tense.” Taehyung asked, scooting over so he could sit directly in front of me. “Are you okay? You’re not really like yourself.”

My eyes met his, “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about work.”

“Well don’t, it’s a night out with your friends.” He smiled as he rested his chin on his hands, “Don’t think of stressful things. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

Easier said than done, “I will… Thank you Tae.” I grinned, trying to seem better. What am I even worried about?

“I’m going to find Namjoon or something, I’ll be right back though.” He pointed to nowhere, sliding out and leaving the booth. I looked around the table, seeing two other people – a girl and boy, whose names were Jongin and Kyrstal, I think – having a conversation amongst themselves.  Just Hoseok and I.

“Hey, did you mean that?” Hobi asked, tilting to side so he could look at me, “About being fine and everything?”

“Yes…?” I knitted my eyebrows together, only looking him for a second before adverting my eyes into the crowd.

There. Right there.

They landed on someone sitting on the bar stools, close to one the workers. His blonde hair was only visible for a second before being groped by a hand with long nails. The two were close for having a conversation – too close really, and I squinted, trying to see what was going on.

He’s making out with someone.

“Are you sure you’re sure?” Hoseok’s playfulness helped ease the sting of jealous that stabbed my chest. I looked cautiously at him, my head turning quickly so I couldn’t look at what was happening anymore. Why would he do that?

“Oh yes,” I tried not to grit my teeth; it was hard to breathe all of a sudden, “I’m positive. You wanna go dance or something? I’m getting bored.” Why am I freaking out? I knew he didn’t like me. I kept telling myself he didn’t and I still got let down. What the fuck is wrong with -

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that,” He chuckled, his teeth on full display, “You never dance. This should be fun.”

“I have two left feet.” Breathing in, I began calming myself down again and I got up from his lap and slid from the booth as he followed closely behind, “Sorry about that.”

“You’re all good.” Laughing, he stood behind me, breath fanning across my neck, “I’ll help you.”

I led the way to where a mass of bodies were, passing by Yoongi. Our eyes met for a half a second, before the witch hands were back on him and I looked over just in time to see it was the waitress from earlier. Oh God, you should have seen that coming. The flashback of her glaring at me from earlier played in my head, and I only quickened my pace as I tugged Hobi behind me.

The music was much louder where everyone was, and the floor pounded against my feet to the beat. I blinked hard, swaying backwards into Hoseok as the last shot I had just taken finally hit me. He can have that slut anyways. Hoseok turned me around, a look of ‘hey, are you alright there friend’ flashing through his features.

Why should I care who he kisses?

I nodded a yes feverishly quick, my eyes finally focusing as I grabbed Hoseok by the neck and attached my mouth to his.

He doesn’t care who I kiss.

After a second of shock, he kissed back. It wasn’t like I had never had a rough make out session with someone before, but I was still taken aback from the dominance he held since the last couple of times I had kissed someone it was more… soft. Stop thinking about it.

It ended as quick as it had started, and only when I took a step back from him did I notice that he was just as drunk as I was. His pupils were blown up, lips slightly swollen from what had just happened, and his stance wavered. I look him over quickly, thinking, damn, he’s so much taller than me. I knew I wasn’t wearing the highest heels I owned, but I never knew that Hoseok was this tall. He was so soft spoken and even though his personality was big it wasn’t giant. I had always thought of his height like I thought of him – child-like.

A new song began through the speakers, making me come back to reality. “I love this song,” I shouted. It was a lie, of course. I don’t know what to say. He grinned, leaning back and bouncing to beat. It actually is hot in here. I bopped my head awkwardly, since I’d never really danced when we went out. You were always such a wimp. I wasn’t off beat, but I certainly didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve.  

Hoseok’s hands sneaked around waist, pulling me closer to him as his body kept moving in a steady rhythm. “I said I’d help you.” They traveled down to my hips that made them sway in time with his. Your dance classes really payed off. My own hands found themselves in many places. One snaked up his arm and then moved to the back of neck, while the other trailed up his torso before stopping near his heart and then going back down again.

With every beat we got closer and closer together, before barely anything was between us. His lips had gone to my jaw, sucking and biting wherever he could. My fingers threaded through his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough to made him groan sometimes.

We had turned throughout the dancing, leaving me to face Yoongi now. Oh yeah, he’s here. He turned just as I focused on him, his eyes shooting from mine to my neck and then Hoseok’s hands, before traveling back up almost squinting. That’s right. I could see him swallow, being turning back to whoever was sitting next to him now. Probably another girl.

The thought of that made my step falter, he doesn’t like you. “Hey, Hobi. Where’s your coat?” I tipped my head and spoke in ear, earning a questioning groan. “I don’t want you to lose it.”

He stepped back from me slightly, his hand coming up to my neck to rub a sore spot as he examined it, “S’at the booth,” his words were starting to slur, “Come with me, I don’na lose you.” He wrapped an arm around my waist, beginning to walk surprisingly steady for his condition. That’s so sweet of him… Something nothing Yoongi would never do.

Why am I comparing Hoseok to him?

We passed Yoongi, and I avoided eye contact though I could feel him burning holes into my back the entire time.  Reaching the booth, we met Taehyung and Hoseok sat down as he picked up his coat.

“I’m’a go to the bathroom.” I spoke into Hoseok’s ear, earning a nod, before I trudged off trying not to step on anyone’s feet.

After washing my hands, I stepped out of the restroom. So fucking hot in here. Looking to my left, I remembered the backdoor was right by the bathrooms, for the smokers. Sighing, I wove through a few people to find the exit to just step outside for a minute because my make up was about to melt off at this point. Pushing the door open and stepping outside, my breath hitched from the sudden temperature change. I hugged myself, closing the door as I leaned against the wall of the building. The music shook the walls and the smell of booze was overwhelming even out here.

“Hey, ar’you ditchin’ me?” A voice whispered into my ear before a hand clamped down on my mouth. I didn’t even hear the door open. I tried pushing the person away from me but they had wrapped their other one around both of my arms that hugged my chest. “Shh, s’just me. S’Hobi, don’t worry.” The hand removed itself from my mouth and wrapped around my chest like his other one, “Just wanted to spook you.”

The cold air and the sudden shock sobered me a touch, and I wasn’t as unsteady anymore. Why are we both outside? “Hoseok, let’s go back inside…” I started towards the door, shivering slightly.

“No, s’fine ri-i-ight here,” he sang, “not as many people, jus’us.” Pulling me back from the door he began further into the alley. “The music’s loud still.”

“But Hobi I’m cold.” I tried, still pushing against him. “S’chilly out -”

“You’re okay.” He huffed, stopping finally as he unwrapped his arms, “Isn’t it fun out’ere?” Grinning, he pushed me back up against the wall, towering over him. He grabbed my jaw, lifting it up as he leaned down and pinned me back with his hips.

I turned away, “No Hoseok,” I ducked into my shoulder, “Let’s go inside, right now.” You’re scaring me. The alcohol was rapidly leaving my system as this kept happening, my heart began pumping quicker the longer he kept cornering me. “Let’s find Taehyu-”

Hoseok’s hand returned to my mouth, “Where’d m’nickname go?” His hips dug me harder into the wall, “Just were saying, ‘Hobi’ a’sec ago.” I began feeling a hand at the hem of shirt, slipping under it and running it up my stomach, “N’you don’t feel cold.”

He’s not letting me leave.

The palm on my mouth barely let me breathe, let alone could I cry out. “Y’look nice in your skirt.” He whispered into my neck before he returned to the spot from earlier. I was too scared to move. I didn’t even know where I could go – he’d catch me before I could go anywhere. He’s just drunk, snap him out of it.

My mouth was finally uncovered, only for it to be again by Hoseok’s. The hand under my shirt traveled higher and pushed my bra over my breasts before it came back to grope one. I shivered from the coldness, and began wiggling underneath him to try and get out. I grabbed his shoulder’s attempting to push him away from me. This is useless. I began kicking my legs to try and shock him, but he only ended up spreading my feet far apart with his. His fingers began prodding at the waistband of my skirt, slipping into it.

Terrified, I shook my head fiercely, my fists punching his chest and his neck before he growled and grabbed them with one hand and kept them above my hand. My heart felt like it was going to rip out my chest – I didn’t know what to do. Finally his lips left mine to go to neck and I attempted screaming out but my throat was so tight it came out as a sob. A sob? I’m crying?

The finger’s left the waistband of my skirt to only touch my thigh and trail up my leg. “St-stop. Just-t stop.” I banged against him. “Let’s find Taehyung.” My vision wasn’t clear anymore, tears welled up in my eyes. His palm rubbed through my thong; my hips trashed while I tried to close my legs. It felt like that happened for hours, and I almost decided to give up since he wasn’t moving. I couldn’t move him. The tears from my eyes started streaming down my cheeks.

“What the fuck?” Someone shouted, and then Hoseok suddenly left my body and I heard a something hit the gravel. “What the fuck are you doing?” Thank you, thank you thank y-

I suddenly was on the ground too, my weight dropped down since the only thing that was holding me up before was Hoseok’s hips. I instinctively covered my hands, sobbing into my hands as I curled into a ball in the dirt.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Taehyung’s voice came closer to me, “Y/N are you okay? What – I –“His voice cracked as he leaned down tried sitting me up. Once I was in his arms I fell against him and hid my face in his chest as I heard another string of profanities from… Yoongi?  

“Hey, hey. Shh, please calm down – it’s okay, you’re okay. It’s safe now, I’m here.” Tae soothingly rubbed my back as he tried helping me up. “I’m taking you home… Hey! I’m driving her back!” He shouted behind us. “We’ll get your stuff, you’re going to be all good, I promise.”

He’s crying.


I don’t remember the ride home. I only remember walking the steps up to my apartment with Taehyung’s help and closing the door behind us as he kept saying soothing things. He didn’t push for anything. From there he took me straight to the bathroom, telling me to take a shower and try and relax in the water. Taehyung left me in the bathroom sobbing, his face a mixture of sadness and hatred. Ripping my clothes off, I threw myself into the bathtub; quickly turning to turn on the shower head.

I didn’t stand up – either because I didn’t want to or if I didn’t know if I could, I don’t know. I sat under the streaming water, crying still but not as much. I don’t know how long I was in or how long I was going to stay in there for. The initial shock of it was finally gone. It’s done, it’s over. Taehyung came for you – helped you. My heart slowed down along with my breathing. So did Yoongi, he came for you. He - A sob wrecked my body.

He doesn’t like you.

My bathroom door opened, closing with a click, “Y/N?”

“Tae-Taehyung?” I tried stiffing my weeping. Why did that make you cry again? “Is that you?”

“It’s… It’s Yoongi.” Why are you making me cry again? “I’m sorry if you wanted Taehyung. He just left. I have your stuff, I went inside and picked it up.” His voice was hoarse, like he had been screaming.

“No,” I sniffled, “it’s not disappointing me.” I reached for a bar of soap, fumbling with it in my hands. “Were… were you just screaming now?”

“You bet.” Sad humor rippled through the words, “I also busted my knuckles pretty bad beating the shit out of him.”

That only made the sob I was holding back come through, my hands abandoning the soap as they hugged my knees, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry this is all my fault.” I leaned against the tile. Why did you do all this? You’re so stupid, this is exactly why he doesn’t like y-

“Why are you saying sorry?” Yoongi’s voice cracked, “Why would you ever say sorry for that? Because of my knuckles? They’ll heal, I did that on my own. That was for you -”

“No not for your knuckles!” I wept, “I did this on purpose, this is all my fault.”

He was silent for a minute as my sobs filled the room, the sound of water not even being able to dull them. “You purposely made him molest you?”

“Wh-what? No! No, that’s not… that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” I was expecting his voice to be angry, annoyed – disgusted. “Please tell me.” His voice was soft instead, careful like he was going to break me. You’re worn-down.

After finally catching my breath, I started, “I mean, as in, I-I wanted him to be all ‘up on me’. I know he doesn’t dr-drink and I made him t-take shots so he’d be like that…” Stop hiccuping, Jesus Christ.

“Why?” Yoongi asked, but I didn’t answer.

“Why?” He asked again.

“Because…” I hiccuped, “I really wanted to.” Just tell him, it’s now or never. “Because I really wanted to makeyoujealous.” My last words shot out and I hid my face in-between my knees even though we couldn’t see each other.

“You wanted to make me what?” Peeking out I saw his silhouette sit down next to the tub. “Just spit it out.”

“Jealous.”

Instead of replying, I heard him sigh. You fucking blew it. I reached for the soap near my feet, beginning to try and clean myself as best as I could from my position. At least you’re not crying anymore. At least you’re not lying anymore. At least it’s just… out there. Thoughts kept racing through my mind. Please say something – anything. I placed the bar on the soap tray, and my finger’s went to my hair and I fingered through it.

“I’m dying.”

“What…?” I asked, freezing.

“I’m dying. I have cancer.” He spoke softly, but the words seemed to crush the room. “It’s all in my pancreas. We didn’t catch it early on.” The shadow of his head dipped, hands coming up to run through his hair. “It’s only… what, maybe two years? If I’m lucky. I’m actually lucky my hair hasn’t fallen out yet or -”

“Why are you telling me this?” I rubbed my face, “Why did you bring this up to me?”

“The reason,” I could barely hear him over the water, “the reason I came here – why Jimin got so upset about me leaving – is because I went to the doctor and after that I left a voice-mail for my family and left town. I… I don’t know why I left. I couldn’t stay. The doctor told me that since it was late it’d be a slim chance that I’d live. And to hell if I’m going to just sit in a chemo room all day when I know I’ll probably die.

“He also told me to try and spend my days doing stuff I love. ‘Live life to your fullest’, he said, and then I was out the door. It’s not like I had anything here when I came – and that’s why I chose it. I could forget that I a chronic patient, and no one would know, either. I could be myself again.”

“I still don’t know why you’re saying this all.” I reached for the curtain, only my head peeking around so I could look at him. “Out of everyone, you tell me?” He looked at me, his shoulders slumping.

“He said to do things I love. That I enjoy. Do something that makes me happy.” Yoongi shook his head, shifting towards the wall so he could lean against it and still look at me. “That also means being with people that make me happy, that I enjoy.”

“That you love?” My own voice was so small, but he heard it and a small smile took his lips as he nodded.

“I was trying to think of a way to say it better, but, after tonight…” His gaze shifted to the floor, hands clasping together, “I guess it was something to say to you other than, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘it’s okay’, you know? And when you said you were trying to make me jealous – oh, that made the icing on the cake.” He tried to laugh.

“You know, what I said a couple weeks ago about wanting to spend time with you was true,” his eyes looked into mine, “At first I was really needing a place to stay – but honestly, how do you think I wear these nice of clothes and own that car?” I bit my tongue; my cheeks lifted, “I could really spend the night at Taehyung’s if I wanted. I could even afford my own place.”

“So you’re a freeloader?”

“…Yes? But I have a good reason.” Smiling, his ears turned red.

“And what would that be?”

His expression evened out as he looked at me again, fingers carefully raising from his side to brush a strand of soaking hair behind my ear, before it retracted.

“I can’t get enough of you.”

I wanna Dance with you.

Originally posted by teamfreewill-imagine

Reader decides to go with getting Cas to fix her hangover.  This is the second part of a pick your own story i’m try second part Cas version part one is here

Reader x Cas

Warnings: Smut


Deciding on the cheating when another rush of wanting to bark mixed with a splitting headache hit me.

Closing my eyes I sat back down on the bed so I didn’t puke.

‘Dear Cas….’ I think not really knowing how to start.

‘Dean Castiel if you can hear me I could-.’

“What is it you need Y/N?” His voice interrupted me.

Opening my eyes I find him standing only a foot away from me him between the two beds.

“Well that was fast.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Symmanzo

When you’re being appreciated as support…BY HANZO TOO, OF ALL PEOPLE-

y’know what I should do instead of sleeping?  I should draw my OTP sleeping.

Pale Gamkar cuddles for the soul at 4:13 AM.  if you’re reading this you should probably be asleep.