sleek kitchen

They Wanna Make Me Their Queen

( Prompt: princess diaries style “I grew up not knowing I was royal and suddenly my royal grandparent showed up out of nowhere and told me I was so now I guess I’m the heir to the throne and you’re my crush from my pre-royal days but I still have a crush on you” AU ) 

PART 2

A/N: Yeah, okay, I have had this fantasy playing out in my head. Picture it: me, a princess of some small and obscure island, and my long-lost grandmother tells me I’m a princess and I get married to Tom Holland AND WE ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER. Okay, on a serious note - Princess diaries AU anyone? I watched the movie and it was great. 

Taglist: @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter | @tomsleftbrow | @tryn25 | @tanglefire | @midnight-memorial


You drop your backpack on the floor inside your front door. It’s the area that your mum not-so-fondly refers to as the ‘shoe graveyard’ where everyone who comes in leaves their coats, shoes, umbrellas, and in this case, a backpack and a soggy cherry-printed umbrella.

(Y/n)? That you?” Your mum calls from the kitchen.

That’s odd. Mum doesn’t usually get home from work until six o’clock. Shaking out your rain damp hair, you head down the shadowy hallway and into the sleek, modern kitchen of steel and chrome. What you see there makes you gasp.

Mum’s gotten out her best china, gold-rimmed and floral, the ones she’d gotten as a wedding gift. She’s sitting and having tea and fancy pastries with the strangest-looking woman you’ve ever seen. She has pale skin, ruby red lips and hair piled up on her head in an elaborate bun. Small and bird-like, with a stern expression on her wrinkled face, she’s sitting ramrod straight, staring and assessing your every move. She’s dressed in a black cashmere cardigan, and flowing jersey pants, her legs crossed delicately at the ankles. On her feet are black Chanel ballet slippers.

“This is her?”

“Yes,” Your mum answers, glancing up at you with a too-big smile. “This is my daughter, (Y/n).”

“Um,” You say intelligently, glancing at mum for help. You want to ask the woman, Who are you? But you think that might come across as being a little rude. “Um?”

“This is your Grandmother,” Your mother says, waving you forwards. “Your father’s mother.”

“I thought he died.”

“He did, but now his mother – your grandmother – wants to see you.”

“What, after years of total radio silence?” You snort, flinging yourself down into an empty chair. You grab a small finger sandwich, making a face when you realise you’ve grabbed a cucumber one. “What does she want from us? Money? My left kidney?”

Lips pursed, voice clipped, the old lady says, “I can assure you, I have no need for such frivolities.”

“Frivolities? Really? Who even says that anymore?”

(M/n), if you do not tell her, I shall,” Your grandmother says sharply, brandishing a butter knife and heaping a large dollop of clotted cream onto a scone. “There is much to be discussed.”

(Y/n), the thing is . . .” Your mum’s tripping over her words, and you tilt your head to the side as you always do, saying nothing but willing her to continue. “You’re a princess, (Y/n).”

And grandmother nods sombrely along to every word, as though she has to give up her left kidney.

As for you? You take the news remarkably well.

You faint dead away, right then and there.


The worst part about this whole ‘princess’ thing, you think grimly to yourself as you stomp down the hallway of Midtown High, is that you’ve been forbidden from telling anyone. Not Ned Leeds, not Michelle Gonzales, and most certainly not even your best friend, Peter Parker. You’ve just become princess of a small island called Serangoon, have a queen for a grandmother, basically have unlimited power and resources at your fingertips, and you’re not allowed to talk about it. Grandmother had explained – rather impatiently, in your opinion – that if you told your friends, the information would spread like wildfire. You could – and would – be compromised, assassinated like a character in Game of Thrones. This was for your safety, she’d assured you.

You don’t even get a makeover like Taylor Swift in her You Belong With Me music video. You’re still the same old (Y/n), with your frizzy hair, less-than-ideal clothes and the acne scars on your face.

What you do get are princess classes – Mondays to Fridays, 3pm to 7pm. History classes, etiquette lessons, and basically whatever your grandmother saw fit to throw at you. You’d seen the disdainful way she’d looked at you. Because of course princesses had to be charming and graceful, with impeccable manners.

You’d tried to tell her that you had homework, a social life, but your pleas for mercy had fallen on deaf ears.

How is it that a freaking princess can be invisible, you think grouchily, slamming your locker with a little more force than is strictly necessary. The metal trembles violently, then stills, and you glower angrily at it.

Stupid locker, stupid grandmother, stupid, stupid, stupid!

“What did that locker ever do to you?” Peter demands laughingly, sidling up to you, a soft, sweet smile on his face.

Instantly, your mind goes fuzzy, a big useless snowstorm. Your mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and you gulp. That crush on Peter hasn’t disappeared at all, has it? It’s almost amazing to consider – you’re a princess, who will likely be married off to a prince/duke/king to provide heirs to both kingdoms ( or maybe this is your Game of Thrones obsession shining through ), but you still feel awkward and small around a boy you’ve known ( and liked ) since middle school.

Of course, the only way he’d ever notice you was if you became as gorgeous and as popular as Liz Allen.

If only you could tell the press …

But no.

“Earth to (Y/n)!” Peter’s laughing now, waving a hand in front of your face, his eyes bright and happy. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Um. Um?” You shake your head to clear away the fog. Your face feels far too warm for your liking. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Movie night? My place or yours? A new episode of Star Wars came out, and you agreed that we’d watch it tonight.”

“Thanks a lot, grandmother,” You mutter, cursing your grandmother out in your mind for scheduling princess classes on a Friday. “I can’t, Peter. Not tonight. I’m sorry.”

Peter’s face falls, and you’re kicking yourself for having to flake out on him and this time honoured tradition. For a moment, you think about just caving and telling him – but the resulting earful you’ll get from your grandmother is not worth it.

“I’ll make it up to you,” You say instead. “Promise.”

You glance anxiously at your watch. 3.12 pm. You’d asked Stanley – your chauffer cum body guard – to pick you up three blocks away from school, outside Hunan Kitchen, a dingy Chinese place, and you can practically picture his stern, youthful face as he waits, the engine of the Rolls Royce idling.

“Okay.” Peter’s smiling a little now, and that’s worth something, at least. “As long as you promise.”

Uninvited. {Dean Ambrose}


Summary: Housesitting for Dean had its perks, his house was beautiful, quiet and relaxing when it came to studying compared to your dorm or the lecture hall. However, your friends convince you to throw a party at his bachelor pad only to have Dean crash the party.

Warning: Smut. Smut. Smut.

Masterlist: Here

Keep reading

The Dinner Date

Prompt: “There was a power outage and now we have to have dinner by candlelight.”
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Lily Evans, James Potter
Setting: Modern AU
1,000 Words


Dinner at my place, James had casually asked, with an easy grin, and Lily had accepted after the briefest of hesitation.

Lily stopped before the door, ran her hand through her carefully curled red hair, and smoothed the front of her dress as she gathered her nerve.

Though initially she hadn’t been too impressed by James Potter, she’d come to really really like him – and this would be their fourth date.

And date number four and dinner at my place were just the kind of specific combination that it got Lily’s imagination running; she was definitely having expectations regarding tonight.

Lily bit her lip and rang the doorbell, trying her best not to fidget as she waited, ears straining to catch the sound of scuffling footsteps from inside the flat.

The door opened and James appeared in the doorway. His hazel eyes lit up with delight, a bright smile bloomed on his lips.

“Hey, there,” he greeted her, bending to give her a light peck on the cheek.

“Hi,” Lily said, a little breathless as she was once again struck by how handsome he looked. Even when clad in a ridiculous pink apron.

“Come in,” he beckoned, and stepped back.

Keep reading

Expedition - Tenacious 4 (18k)

Okay. Woah. The warning labels this will have is depression, emotional/trust issues, heavy angst, blood, injury, possible death of a major character and cheating. Mild sexual content, as well.I almost forgot to mention; Monsta X is the collab group for this.

Tenacious

Tenacious 2

Tenacious 3




Ditching the tank tops, shorts, sandals, and snap backs for coats, knitted caps, gloves, muffs and boots; You didn’t welcome the harsh winter that the world had to offer. You weren’t as charismatic as you are in the summers, your skin rigid and drying from the intensity of the winds whipping about. Trees became bare, naked, and in a cool sheen of ice.

You could sense how stripped it was outside when it was winter, and how cruel the seasons change from one to the other. It reminds you that you are small compared to the planet that inhabits millions of other humans that breathe and bleed the same blood as you.

The fact you’re sitting with Yoongi in an apartment shared between you, him and the six boys– Yes, all of you. Him and his non-minty hair having washed out to a faded hash brown resembling color had you feel all fuzzy inside. You got your space and privacy better than it would have been if you guys went to the crib you used to own. The realtor’s have torn it down after people were sneaking in there to steal their shit and there was nothing left of it, so Yoongi decided it was okay to start anew.

It was refreshing and active, where you’d do the regular routine:

Sleep next to him.

Give him his morning sex if he was up for it.

Let him be clingy.

Ask him if he wanted to go out or stay in.

If he chose to stay in, it was a day of laughter and playing around, watching television with him or calling the gangs to plan heists in the future. You’d have either Namjoon or Hoseok to come and write it down, do research and contact Seokjin to go around town for dealer’s or weapon shops to get their stash in check.

Last but not least, you get to eat meals with him then talk about life, topics that intrigued him, or about music you two liked to listen to. He wasn’t a talker to anyone else besides you, and you adored that with every fiber of your being. It made you feel wanted, and respected on a certain level in the relationship. He put you on a pedestal; cherishing you, comforting you and having you be yourself around him without judgement in any way.

You rarely argued unless it revolved around money, the boys, or your injuries you’d sustain from plans that went wrong. This time you didn’t get injured; you had to cradle Yoongi’s thrown out shoulder and arm, sitting him on the sleek kitchen chair in a rush. “Baby, is it broken?”

“Does it look broken?” He gritted out in clenched teeth. “The fucker did a Bruce Lee flying kick type shit and had me hit a car!”

The pain was sharp, and he winced when pressing himself back on the chair, looking away. You had sweat matted to your forehead, Seokjin and Hoseok being the last of the six to enter the apartment. They weren’t too badly beaten up, Jimin was out of breath and taking in lungfuls of air from running with Jungkook, veins nearly popping out of his neck. Namjoon had a split lip, and he was seeping the paper towels on his mouth, his furrowing of his brows proving how much it was killing him to speak. Taehyung held his ribs then leaned on the sofa, whimpering faintly through his throat.

A damned cashier recognized them while they were dining out to eat, and the police were called on the spot. Unfortunately, the police station was literally right besides where they were. It didn’t look like a police building! You assumed it was an office-like building! It’s not like it had bold glowing letters indicating that the cops would come out at any point, and the parking lot holding the police cars were beyond where it’s located. It really wasn’t your fault!

You had to get him in bundled clothing to keep him warm, albeit his throbbing arm. “I’m going to be right back, stay here.” You carefully cup his face then peck his nose then leave his side, going through Namjoon and Seokjin’s invasive movements to help Yoongi not move an inch.

“I think you’re over reacting, Yoongs. He just pushed you really hard.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at Namjoon. “Shut up.”

“He’s right.” Seokjin said gently, and he was scratched on his palms from scraping on the pavement, turning his hands over and over to see the damage. “Shit, this stings.”

“Let me take care of that.” Namjoon announced; getting the first aid kit from the square cabinets, popping the lid then getting peroxide and gauze. “You’re going to get an infection if you don’t clean those.”

“Yah! You’re not supposed to put peroxide on these kinds of wounds!” Seokjin squeaked his voice an octave, spluttering and pushing the brown bottle out of the genius’s hands. “You’re not a nurse, let her do it!”

Giggling to Seokjin in the kitchen, Jimin walked in to look in their fridge, resting his forearm on the door. “Seokjin-ah, will you be making any dinner? Since we couldn’t get any at the restaurant?”

“Aish, Jimin,” The eldest was sending him his exhausted expression. “We ran from the cops, does it look like I’m in tip top shape to be cooking?”

Pause.

“Yes.” Came his smart-ass reply.

You roll your eyes at their behavior and come into the dining room, kneeling to Yoongi. You couldn’t find his coat or jacket, he’d have to settle with nothing. You massaged his thighs, though you were beginning to sit on the floor to comfort him. He’d reciprocate your tenderness and caress your fingers, lacing them in his. “Thanks, babe.” He shivered and sniffed, licking his lips in anxiety. “I hope my arm and shoulder isn’t too fucked up. You remember what happened when I was a delivery boy as a kid. Shattered both my shoulders..”

“I understand.” You say quietly, and gaze up at him in apology. “Stay warm. It’s cold out there and in here. Heating still doesn’t work?”

“Nope.” Jungkook already had his hands testing the heaters that ran along the bottom of the walls, pursing his lips at the freezing covers it had curled around them. “We didn’t pay the heating bill last month.”

“I think it’s time we move.” Taehyung wheezed, starting to cuddle a pillow to his chest. “Why don’t we ask someone we know we can trust?”

“We don’t trust anybody. That’s the thing, dumb ass.” Jimin commented and exhaled heavily. “Seokjin, you’re not going to cook? If not, I’ll be leaving to find Yugyeom.”

“We’re not in their town and you know that he’s not allowed to travel that far to see us.” Seokjin snapped. “I’ll cook in a second. You hungry hippo’s are lazy as shit, damn– Namjoon, I said no peroxide!”

Namjoon was about to pour the peroxide on a cotton pad and he froze at his hyung’s attitude. “I read online that it helps!”

“You’re not supposed to put peroxide on it, Joon.” You stand to take the items from him, instead searching for ointment. “Seokjin, relax. I’ll do it. Give me your hands. Namjoon, check on Taehyung for me.”

“You all act like my girlfriend is some nurse.. What nerve.” Yoongi grumbled. He observed your work on Seokjin, your fingertips pressing parts of the pad to his ripped skin and and red blotches of blood from the friction. Each nibble of the elder’s lip wasn’t out of spite, he was genuinely uncomfortable from having fell down from tripping on his own two feet. You apply a second set of ointment, wrapping gauze in weaving motions slowly and surely to clip it all together. “I advise that you shouldn’t lift anything or.. Ya know.”

“Yeah. I have to cook though.”

“You can do that, but take it easy.”

“Got it.” He grunted when starting on pulling out ingredients, bags of rice and sesame oil, seaweed, noodles, all sorts of things. Taehyung was restless on Namjoon’s private words of encouragement to see how badly he had gotten hit, and Jimin was peering over in guilt. Jimin had missed his target (miraculously) and hit Taehyung in the side. He apologized profusely, and it fell on deaf ears. He hoped Taehyung could forgive him. Jungkook shuffled to pull out his phone and he began dialing.

“Who are you calling?” Hoseok finally asked, and he was distraught like everyone else. “It better not be Yugyeom. We just said he can’t.”

“It’s not him. I’m calling Exo.”

The crew stared at the maknae and they were dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” Jimin’s lips opened to say that singular sentence and you agreed. “You’re joking. You must be.”

“Exo? Why them?” You crossed your arms and Yoongi tugged you so he could hug your waist. “JK, don’t be ridiculous. We might be good friends with them but they won’t offer us a place to stay at. There’s too many of them.”

“They used to have thirteen people and they let us crash at one point, what’s the big deal?” Jungkook shrugged. “Even if it was a few years ago.”

“They’re down to nine and they don’t have room. Don’t do it.” Namjoon remarked.

“There is seven of us, nine of them. It would be easier if there was seven on their side too,” says the leader who buried his cheekbone on your stomach.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Then why don’t we ask the gangs that have seven members?” Man, this kid had balls to keep pressing the subject.

“Can we drop it? I’m getting a head ache from you all jabbering about this.” Seokjin furrowed his brows, placing the seaweed grids in a bowl of water to soak.




In the middle of preparing the feast, the eldest of the group called over Yoongi to taste his chicken that was being grilled.

“This tastes like shit, Seokjin-ah. Did you season it, at all?” Yoongi grimaces, sliding his tongue on the roof of his mouth in distaste.

Jimin was smiling cheekily to his left, watching Yoongi stand there. He had tried his own piece and he decided to not worsen the fuel to the fire in Seokjin’s orbs fixated on him.

“You hobbity bastard, we don’t have salt or pepper.” Seokjin deadpanned. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Put some.. I don’t know, a marinade? Jesus fuck.”

“Yah!” He exaggerated in complaint. “You’re being picky! This is what we got! Sit down!”

Dinner was wholesome albeit the stress of being low on supplies, sitting at the rectangular table and extra sets of folded chairs going around to service the seven boys. You were sharing rice with Yoongi while Hoseok was arguing for a piece of meat with Jimin, and Jungkook was thinking long and hard about who to hit up to help out their caution out in the real world, his phone in his hands and not picking up his chopsticks. Seokjin was digging in without a care in the world, ignoring the incessant burn in his hands from moving his joints about to get what he liked. Taehyung had stew, his spoon dipping into the brown sauce and sipping over the steam.

Namjoon had clicked his tongue at you to eat up, which you obeyed begrudgingly. “Don’t sit there like you aren’t allowed to eat. You’ll need your strength.”

“For what?” You gently inquire.

“We’ll need to move furniture out of the apartment to make space on the floor for the mats.”

“We’re getting rid of them?” Jungkook picks up on this, not tearing his glance away from his screen.

“They’re old, why not. And we get better posture from the mats anyways.” Taehyung informed the maknae and he licked his lips for stray sauce that was coated on the seafood he had skewered.

Biting into his vegetable wrap, Yoongi chewed nonchalantly, listening intently.

“Seokjin can’t lift anything as far as his hands go,” Yoongi muffled his voice by the food and you fought a chuckle. “He sits out. I can’t help out either because of my damn shoulder.”

“I didn’t find the sling, but I have a scarf that could help.” You mention, eyebrows raising up into your hairline practically. “Want me to get it? It looks like it hurts the more you keep moving that arm.”

He hesitated then nodded. You went to go fetch it; Jimin patting his own abs. “I’m stuffed,” He yawned and ruffled his bangs, beginning to stand and stretch. “I’ll start moving the furniture.”

“Me too.” Taehyung said, but Jimin frowned at him. “What?”

“I hit you in the ribs, I don’t think you should be doing anything strenuous.”

“I’m fine. Aish.”

They both fled the table and Jungkook was rubbing the inner corner of his eye in frustration. “What’s wrong?” You directed your question at him when you arrived and passed the two boys with Yoongi’s make-shift scarf and he merely shoveled a spoonful of rice in his mouth to not answer.

“I think he’s trying to think of whether or not he should message Jieun.” Seokjin teased.

Jungkook rolled his eyes and blatantly said, “Ner I'mf nawt.”

Namjoon clapped his hand on the boy’s center of his back. “It’s okay. She’ll notice you one day.”

“Hyungf.” He growled at him, and Namjoon decided to let up.

Taehyung and Jimin were screeching the legs of the sofa on the floor, the sound deafening. You didn’t mind it, weaving the linen on your boyfriend’s shoulder and torso to have it stiff and flexible simultaneously. You knotted it up, smiling at him in the end. He sincerely kissed your forehead, tugging you up with his free hand. “Come and finish eating. Then you can help Namjoon.”

“Don’t do all the work, by the way!” Namjoon called out to Jimin and Taehyung but they brushed him off. Jungkook remained mute for the duration of eating, you and Hoseok butting heads about a game of cards.

“You cheated at Goldfish.”

“How can you even cheat for a kid’s game?” You smirk.

“You cheated. I want a rematch, idiot.”

“No!”

“I want a rematch. Simple as that.”

“I won’t do it, Hoseok. You’re childish.”

“Says the person who cheated to win a kid’s game!” He recanted your words and your jaw dropped.

“Yah! Hop off!”

“Is this about the time she didn’t tell you she had any three’s and you flipped the table and then went for a smoke?” Seokjin interjected, chopsticks laying on his pouty lips.

“Yeah, it is!” Hoseok was crossing his arms, thinking it was unfair. “I play card games fair and square, and she always cheats, Jin.”

“If she really wanted to cheat you on a card game, play Bullshit. Not Goldfish. Let it go.”

Bullshit, the card game, was indeed very fun. The point of the game is seeing if anyone was lying while putting down a card. It goes in the suits that are by numbers, then jack, queen, and king and ace. You start over the sequence when you put down the ace. If anyone doesn’t put the correct card while saying the supposed number, you have to take your chances and call their bullshit if you think their lying.

It’s a clever game. But they’re all bad liars. It does take forever. The ones who run out of cards are thrown out of the game, and it’s not easy to play, you can get bored and move on quickly. You rarely played it for that reason.

A bump into the wall and Taehyung was whining for Jimin to ease the force of pushing the sofa had you shaking your head.

“Yahyahyah! Don’t! Ow!”

“Don’t kill the poor guy!”

“Sorry!” Jimin cried and his bubbly laugh had Taehyung in stitches.

“I’m done, let’s help them, Joonbug.” You say when downing your glass water. You wanted to get this over with.

“One sec,” He snarfs down a dumpling and obnoxiously stands, almost knocking over his own chair while rushing to go and grab a ledge of the couch that was being lifted by Taehyung’s struggling side. “Woah! There we go.” His arms bulged in the strain to lift; you helped shift night stand’s and coffee tables, arranging the dvd’s and cassette tapes that needed to be sold.

They got the sofa to be against the wall by the front door, the bumps to have it neatly in place being rough. Jimin fixated the cushions on it’s adjusted lines, fluffing them up. Taehyung put the pillows on them after Jimin was done, and Namjoon was reaching for the mats in the pantry. You were handed them to flatten out and spread them on the floor, the majority of the floor being a bit dusty.

“I should really sweep up the place. My bad.” Seokjin said, watching you enter and the exit the kitchen to take the mats.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just hold my breath.” You joked.

“Seokjin-ah, pass me some lettuce.” Yoongi mumbled.

“I’m going to sleep on the sofa, is that okay?” Jungkook mentioned being separate from them and Hoseok nudged him to be quiet.

“Why?” Yoongi eyed him.

“So that you have more room on the floor.” He said in honesty.

“I’d rather you not.”

“Why?”

Yoongi didn’t answer him, putting his meat in the lettuce and wrapping it up. Hoseok gave him an apologetic expression then poked to tell him to go and help the boys. Seokjin was pressing the tape on the gauze down that was on his palm, the lint having caught on the sticky flap and not working the way it should. “Shit.”

Namjoon added the extra layer of comfort to not feel the wrath of aches and pains the morning later onto the mats, wringing out sheets and letting them fly like parachutes onto the according feet it ranged from. The pillows were filled into dull shaded pillowcases, decorating and littering the ground when they were done. They each had one pillow and no blankets; body temperature was used for heat since the heaters weren’t paid for. They couldn’t even rob a place from the alert being that high.

Being in the mafia wasn’t all that it seemed.

The scent of the living room switched from dingy to of the Yankee Candle Yoongi owns, the candle lighter clicking and letting the flame hover on the wick.

They finished dinner then did dishes that took around a half hour to complete. Seokjin made it clear that they should all be able to hold over until they can scrounge up money to buy more groceries, and he sat down on the mat, taking a pillow to hold. He was cute in that way, and you decided it would be best to get changed into comfortable clothes for the night. You rummaged for a pajama top and shorts, shutting yourself in the bathroom.

You stare at yourself in the wobbly mirror, going over how you look. You seemed tired. That was all. It’s been not that long from being spotted on the television and going to the fair with the crew. They were doing whatever at this rate, wherever they went was where they would stay until the next event would come for them. The caution was rising too much and they could be seen from the locations. They were lucky to be given this secret apartment by Bigbang, where they’d pay them every month for the bills, electricity, heating, and such. Bigbang was the richest gang out there other than Exo, and they wished they hadn’t gotten caught to ruin their reputation.

They had their brotherhood and that’s what mattered.

You undressed to blindly put on the material, noting at how baggy they’ve become. You didn’t care for it, and you bit on the inside of your cheek lightly. You brushed out your hair in your routinely ways, using the time it would take to be ready.

Yoongi knocked on the door.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I have to brush my teeth.”

You let him in and make room for him at the sink, observing how he leaves the door open haphazardly. He runs toothpaste on the bristles of his toothbrush, scrubbing it onto his teeth. You sigh lightly, petting his injured arm. “Don’t strain it, okay?”

He nodded silently, letting you touch him when he wasn’t in a talkative mood. “Mm.”

You guiltily reach up to kiss the stubble on his cheek. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“Are we cuddling tonight?”

He slowly glanced at you through the mirror. He didn’t know how to answer that.

“Are we..?”

He nods again.

Jeez.

You let up to brush your teeth also, blinking and scanning your shaky movements. You were cold. He noticed your shaking after spitting out the foam forming in his cheeks, squinting at you with a hint of what he was about to do. He stepped to be behind you, his sight raking down the nape of your neck.. He was admiring you. Yoongi slid his arms around your hips and let his chin go on your head, a blank expression on his face. He was showing affection in the littlest ways and you didn’t pay any mind to it. “Cheer up, baby.”

“Hard to do that when you’re depressed.” You say quietly, glancing at him in the reflection.

“I’ll cheer up if you can give me a smile, sunshine.”

“All those nicknames.. You’re flattering me.” You start to turn your lips up to brush your teeth, brushing right away.

“No fun,” He breathed into your ear and you jerked at that. “What?”

“I swear if you’re going to get horny to mask your depression..”

“I’m not. I’ve been wanting you for weeks.”

“And you know why I’m not giving you any? We need our shit together first in order for me to have an orgasm.” You say with the white tooth paste staining the corner of your mouth. “I’m trying to brush my teeth, come on.”

He stared at you, not wanting to hear that. “You can orgasm if I let you sit on my face.”

You choke comically, bending down carefully in order to not brush up on his erection. “We’re cuddling, that’s that. I don’t want sex at the moment.”

“Alright, alright.”

He paused and swayed, a gummy smile appearing when you fixed your posture. “How about a blowjob?”

“Yoongi. Get on the mats and shut up,” You growl. The leader jutted his chin at you as if he wasn’t satisfied with you, rambling about how you were being mean and he wanted to have fun on his way out.

“Anyone have to use the bathroom?” He called, and Jimin raced Namjoon to get to the doorway, your hands thrown up in the air in defense.

“Jeez! One at a time!” You yell and they are already bickering about the shower, jostling to get around the men. “Fuck!”

Taehyung was stuck on the mat like he was glue, cheek shoved in the pillow and in a dreamy state. He was adorable. Jungkook was gingerly packing his sleep station, wanting to be next to Seokjin. Hoseok was smack dab in the middle, hands holding up a book over his face to read while laying down. Seokjin nursed his injured hands and was facing himself to Jungkook who was getting down to the ground to meet him. “You read?” You say to Hoseok.

“Yeah. Once in a while.” He smiled at you, and it was a sweet kind.

“What’s it about?”

“A clone who lives through a really rough society.” Yoongi’s wing man said in a matter-of-fact tone, and you tilt your head.

“A clone?”

“Yeah, it’s science fiction.”

“That’s.. I think cool?”

“It sounds lame,” Jungkook comments.

“Shut the fuck up and don’t instigate,” Seokjin hit his bicep and the maknae whimpered.

“Ow!”

“Yah.. I’m sleeping!” Taehyung rose to slap the elder’s backside because Seokjin’s elbow had bashed him from the hit. “Don’t elbow me like that!”

“I didn’t mean to-! Ah! Don’t slap my ass!” He shielded his bottom with his gauze, laughing.

Jungkook guffawed from the chain reaction, however you and Hoseok were tired of their antics. “I’ll let you read your book in peace.” You bleakly mention to him and he replies in unison, “Yeah. Good idea.”

Yoongi and you snuggle up together on the same mat, two pillows fused and body heat grew when you would rub on his figure. Your hands were on his collarbone, fidgeting his thin chain necklace and grazing milky skin. He was limp, pliant under your touch, and parting his lips to breathe several soothing breaths. Listening to his heart beat was something special, and he would relish the moments spent in this position.

Jimin and Namjoon ended up taking a shower together to preserve water and get to bed like the rest of them, their backs to each other.

Yoongi had kept his voice low, only for you to hear. “You’re my favorite person in the world.”

You were midway into falling in the depths of slumber, your ears twitching from how quick you reacted to his words.

“You’re my everything. You know that?”

Nothing would be changed in your life span if you had the option to, other than rewinding time to hear him say that a million times. “You mean that?”

“I do.”

You whisper, “I hope you propose to me like last time. When we were in a plane to come back home.”

He smirks knowingly to that memory. He was rushing to propose to you while they were all going to sky dive many feet off the terrain of city lights and busy traffic. He was the dangerous trouble maker, having hijacked a flight in America to get the crew in South Korea, and they had been flying for a while. He had pulled out the ring box and screamed over the engine if you would marry him. You didn’t answer because the seven of you had hit turbulence, a gust of wind making the plane tip to the side.

You all were in the air.

Goggles on your eyes and hooked into Yoongi’s body by belts and straps to parachute together; the singular member that had no parachute was Hoseok and he had to have Taehyung soar and dip to catch him. Yoongi nearly lost the box when pulling on the string to glide yourselves to land and you were too busy going through the scenario in your head; you were going to be married!

From going through the prison and searching back then, both of your rings were gone and not going to be retrieved any time soon. Starting anew can be a good thing. Getting married twice? Who would’ve thought.

“You remember when I proposed?”

“Of course I do. How could I not? That was..” You shook your head a bit at the memory, and pick your head up to peek at his jawline. “That was when I knew I was going to be a wife.”

He was gazing at the ceiling in triumph; He made himself and someone else happy for the first time in his life by making that decision. It was a great flashback to relive. “We’re technically married.. The law says that if you’re engaged for more than 6 years or so.. Yep.”

“Oh shit. Really?” You were shocked. Was that true? You’re married to him without a ring?

“We don’t need rings, you know. But I’ll get you one if you want, in the future.”

“We’ll see about that, honey.” You chuckle. “I don’t think it matters.”

“Ditto.”

“Do people still say that? Ditto?”

“I don’t know. I just said it, didn’t I?”

You loved how goofy he got, and you batted at his stomach faintly to tell him to be quiet. “Let’s sleep. I’m tired.”




You and the seven men were at the table, figuring out what to do with your situation head on. Who to communicate with.. Who to terminate things with? BigBang? Go to Exo? Start robbing blindly without expectations of security? You were running your hands on your face, stressed to all hell. Yoongi was on his laptop, typing and thinking at full speed. Namjoon was writing down possibilities of getting by and Seokjin was running his counterfeit pen under his bottom lip in boredom. Hoseok was scowling at the scene, arms flexing while he lifted weights freely.

The maknae line couldn’t be bothered, yet listened in when it was convenient for them. “How about.. We call a girl gang?”

“You kidding? I deal with her period’s, and that’s enough.” Yoongi sneered. Then he turned to you when you were giving him a sideways glance in disgust. “Sorry, baby. But please consider that you don’t like those cunts as much as I do.”

You roll your eyes and flare your nostrils at him being right. “I get it.”

“2NE1 doesn’t seem like a bad choice–” Namjoon had pulled out his contact book, biting on his fingernail.

“Disbanded.”

Flipping a page, Namjoon continued down the list.

“4Minute?”

“Disbanded too.”

“Twice?”

“Fuck them.” You spit.

“Okay then..” He sighed then ran his index finger down the line. “SISTAR?”

“I dated a girl in that one!” Taehyung called out, having this smug smile on his lips. “I ate her out really good.”

Jungkook was sour, slowly raising his eyes to see his companion thinking of the girl he had performed cunnilingus on. “V. Now’s not the time.”

“I forgot her name.” Taehyung pouted. “But I can’t ever forget how she called my name when she came on my–”

“Moving on!” Namjoon coughed while you heard Jimin’s giggling in the background. “Ahh.. What about MAMAMOO?”

“MooMoo base? That’s actually..” Yoongi was intrigued, and he was looking left to right, splaying his palms out on the table. “Wait.” He stopped. “Nah.”

“Why not?” Seokjin wanted to know why it was bad, steepling his fingers.

“I think I had a bad argument with Moonbyul a few years ago. I can’t tell if she’ll shoot my ass on sight.”

“You and your arguments.. Yoongi..” You groan, putting your forehead on the table in defeat. “We’re doomed.”

A phone rang and it brought you out of your stupor, jumping up. “Who’s phone is it?” Hoseok demanded and he tossed his weights to the floor, the sound causing you to jump again. “Who’s is it?”

Jungkook was gaping at his screen. “It’s Monsta X, guys.”

“Them?” Taehyung was going to snatch the cell phone but Jungkook stood, putting it out of reach. “Yah! Let me answer! I want to yell at I.M!”

“No!”

“Give me!” Jimin sprung up to swipe the air, and Seokjin merely took the phone when Jungkook couldn’t tell who was behind him, answering it.

“Hello?” Says the eldest, sweet as ever. He smiled at nothing in particular, a little too sweet. That’s when you know he faked being nice to anyone he was talking to.

“Yo, man. Is this Jungkook’s number?” Jooheon spoke, his accent thick.

“This is Seokjin speaking. This is Jooheon, right?”

“Yep. Haven’t talked to you in so long!”

“I agree.” Seokjin dropped his facade of being too extra, and sat down next to Yoongi to let him listen. “What has you calling Jungkook?”

“I don’t have Yoongi’s number, I figured Jungkook would be the one to answer since he gave me it after saving y'all’s asses.”

Yoongi’s dead set glare was on the maknae, hearing that Jungkook lent his personal number to a gang like that.

“You didn’t answer my question, Joo.” Seokjin coolly played it.

“You always were a sassy bitch.” Jooheon snickered then leaned into the phone more on his cheek. “I want to talk to Yoongi about the possibility of helping him out again.”

Yoongi uppercutted the phone out of Seokjin’s hand and Seokjin yelped, flinching. “Yah–”

“Helping us out? What is this, Jooheon?” Yoongi hissed into the receiver, gripping the phone to the shell of his ear.

“I see you everywhere on the news, dude. It’s not a secret that Daegu boy and his crew got caught and fucked up a lot of shit in your home town. You lost your status, your money, your infamous bank robbery. It’s a laughing stock.”

The leader was about to pound the damn phone on the table. “Get your facts straight. We can get back up top. Fair and square without cheating.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Yoongs. How about I offer to let you stay with my gang for a while. To lay low.”

Jooheon’s offer was solid and Yoongi was stuck. He didn’t want to take help from Monsta X for the second time in his life. This was supposed to be a one time thing. “Jooheon..”

“You’re struggling. Let’s help each other out. You don’t need to give me anything in return.”

“You promise that isn’t a lie?” Yoongi glared at Jungkook still, not yet done with the issue he had with the youngest. “You’re forreal?”

“Yes. This is legit.”

“Where is your base?”

“It’s in the mountains. Far from where you’re staying under BigBang’s wing. I’ll send you a caravan as close to your avenue as possible and all you gotta do just hop in and drive it. There is nothing sketchy with it, no nothing stuck on it to track you. None of that. I swear on my member’s graves if they ever pass.”

He nervously gazed at you and your confused facial features. You couldn’t understand if he was going to take it or not, using your body language to get an answer out of him. “Well?” You mouth.

“Fine. Send it.”

“It’ll be there in twenty. Pack whatever you got. You’ll need it.”

Click.

Yoongi had the phone pressed to his cheek bone by then, exhaling shakily. “Pack your stuff, all of you.”

He wouldn’t explain anything else further, the mats being folded and restocked in it’s pantry, making sure their home was neat and precise. “Where are we going, hyung?” Jungkook would ask in intervals, and he would be brushed off like he was a pest. Jimin began to do it too, Taehyung repeating their annoying tendencies. Hoseok had to pinch on their ears to shut them up and it was effective, his snarling and clicking of his tongue silencing their whimpers.

Leaving their home with no second doubts, Yoongi had yours and his bag on both of his shoulders, albeit your warnings that he shouldn’t put weight on his upper half.

“Who wants to drive?”

“Drive? Drive what, your truck?” Namjoon asked and he was suspicious. “You never let anyone drive your truck other than Seokjin. Why do I have a feeling Jooheon is setting us up..”

“He’s not. But if he is, I’m going to stab a motherfucker tonight.”

“Is this it?” Hoseok jutted his chin at the big caravan parked in the drive way, swerving his head to see if they were being watched by passerby’s. Jungkook had this sparkle in his rich brown orbs, a bunny tooth smile displaying and his arms thrown out wide, running right to it.

“Wah! A caravan! Is this real?”

“Does it look fake to you?” Jimin teased.

Taehyung touched the design it had on it’s door to enter in, curious like a child. “Is it as big on the inside, is what I’m thinking of.”

“Don’t get too excited just yet. We need to figure out who will drive.” Yoongi dumped the bags on the ground to swing the driver door open, seeing the car keys in it’s slot and jingling. “Seokjin, your hands hurt, right?” He says while closing it for emphasis on the elder’s health.

“Yeah. But I can do it if you truly want me to.” Seokjin held it in for the sake of their leader and he eyed the vehicle. “I’ve never driven a caravan before.”

“I can drive?” Namjoon suggested.

They all scoffed and Namjoon dropped his jaw. “I’m not that bad at driving!”

“You’re bad at everything else besides mapping and planning, I don’t think you should be at the wheel,” Hoseok snugly got into the passenger seat, putting his bag by his legs. “Everyone get in, it’s freezing out there.”

Yoongi agreed, shuffling to get into the middle section of the van with Taehyung holding the door open for the crew. They saw the renovated and modernized table that was by a window, the curtains closed and giving them the choice to see sunlight if they wanted. The instruction pamphlet was tucked into a napkin dispenser, which Namjoon plucked to read.

Jimin was happy with the space it gave for them to move for the walk way, however squished when they piled up.

“You want to drive?” Yoongi went to Hoseok at the front, and his wing man was grimacing.

“Do I have to?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” His shoulders deflated, searching the count of heads by facing his back to his friend. “Do you all want Namjoon to drive? Raise your hands.”

No one raised them and the genius was not particularly enjoying being put on the spotlight like that. “…Let’s not have everyone talk at once,” Namjoon remarked. “Pieces of shit. I hope Seokjin burns your food.”

The seats for the dining section on the left and right side of the table fit three people and it was you, Namjoon and Jimin arm to arm with each other. Taehyung grinned in guilt, not daring to stare at Namjoon’s tense aura. Jimin was tapping his game on his phone and going to play Temple Run, not being bothered by the water pattering on the roof.

Hoseok laid his head on the window, watching dribbles and rivulets of rain coming down on the windshield. “Yoongi, why don’t you drive?”

“Fine.. I will. You all are ungrateful bastards, making me drive with a fucked up shoulder.”

You didn’t want to interfere with their interactions, staying out of it as much as possible and becoming reserved. Yoongi drove the couple of miles north, a map being held in Hoseok’s hands, reminding you of the trip to the board walk. You had remembered you brought cards with you, and you were naturally surprised that the boys had not asked Yoongi where they were heading to. They didn’t get the gist of the call, and you can tell you would meet with Monsta X soon. This was going to take a day or two and you had prepared some things to keep everyone occupied.

Namjoon was staring at you, and you squint at him when you were pulling the cards out of your bag. “What are you staring at, Joon?”

“Oh? What?” He shook his head as if he didn’t pay attention.

“You’re staring at me.” You sneer a little. You hate when people stare at you other than Yoongi.

“Sorry. My bad.” He looked away shyly then tucked his hands between his legs. You grimly stacked the cards, not tending to that matter. You and Joon.. Were something in the past, you didn’t blame him.

That’s right.

You never talked about it. Sitting next to him every single time has you in a mental mess. You had hid it in for years at this point and you were.. Not happy with the results of Namjoon’s walls coming down over the years. He’d stare at you more often, graze your arm or hold your hand if you weren’t with Yoongi. You didn’t want to cheat on Yoongi, so you were cold to him in the end results for his advances to you.

You dated Namjoon a long time ago.. You never expected to be dating someone like him after breaking up with the baseball player who was playing his game of Fruit Ninja as Temple Run had gotten boring by Namjoon’s arm. You look over to the athletic and clueless boy, his orbs focused on slicing melons under his finger on the screen. You dated Jimin pre-gang, and it lasted a week. A week and a half, at most?

Namjoon and you were also pre-gang, don’t get yourself wrong.

Namjoon met you in the cafe you worked at as a barista. You were a busy woman as always. You didn’t have time for relationships; you had time for money, though. You had seen him come and go, ordering the same thing every single time, which was a regular sized Americano. He’d be working on whatever he was scribbling his pen on in fury, earbuds jammed into his ears. He was busy too, which had you connect with him through the hours he’d sit there, ordering one after the other to live off the caffeine.

He’d leave you a tip. Ten bucks or higher. One time he had given you a fifty, because he was particularly happy to find you smiling that day. He wasn’t like other customers who would hit on you or tap your ass if you bent over a table to collect trash. He was a gentleman, and he’d compliment your outfit, when it was a uniform you wore consistently and washed the stains out of every night because of spills.

You never fell that hard for someone. You gave him your number when you were spry, and he winked at you.

That’s when he called you the next day to ask what your schedule, if you could have a proper date with him off duty at the table he normally was sitting at.

You held his golden skin in yours, not knowing where to look at first when it came to his face. His dimples, his alluring eyes, or dark hair.. He never stopped asking you if you wanted him to get you anything to drink or eat. Not for a second would he dare stop staring at you too, and making you feel trapped under his gaze.

The year went by fast, and he had taken you on many dates, splitting the money to pay for his purchases. Exploring the cities with him whenever he was planning underground themes of stealing money, he took photo’s with you. Your job was getting better and better, despite your tricks to play it off that you were giving him free drinks. You were on cloud nine, if that was possible. You rarely argued with him and you never saw a flaw in his tactics to have you smile millions of times in an hour.

The nights of passion you two shared.

The days of waking up next to him and ruffling his tufts of silky hair whenever he didn’t dye it too often.

Until–

Until he was invited to join a gang that was coming out of the wood works, it was brand new and unheard of in the town. Everything was ruined.

A gang you had no idea about. No name, no members were explained, who he would work with or under, what his rank was, or where it was located. He wanted to ease you into it, and that there was a rule to not date anyone, which he was avoiding with all of his might to his boss. His boss found out through a local mobster that he was in a relationship and he wanted you gone. You didn’t even get to know who wanted you gone, anyways! You felt that you deserved to know.

He was given the choice to have you, or to have the gang. That’s that.

He chose the gang. He didn’t want to leave you, he wished he could be with you while being in it. He really did.

You felt betrayed and ended up breaking it off for it be less painful. You didn’t want him dead because of dating you, and his cheesiness turned into cowardice. You didn’t like people staring at you, it evolved to hatred. You loved him so much, and he crumpled it like a paper ball and threw it away because there was a golden opportunity for him to show his ‘talents’.

Your job found out that you were selling drinks to your boyfriend and they fired you.

Soon afterwards, money had been sucked up dry. You had nothing to your name and you were going hungry for good. You were evicted of your apartment that he had bought you, and you threw out of all his shit. All of his trinkets, his souvenirs, everything. Everything wasn’t looking up in your favor and you were in the streets of Daegu, snarling at anyone who wanted to ask you for a blowjob to get you a couple of bucks and feed your rumbling stomach.

You’d never resent yourself that much to turn to prostitution, fuck that.

You sat at the curb, where no cars weren’t allowed to parallel park, and you had listened to the ghost town of nothingness. No one was around, not mice, nor human beings. You were done for, and you cupped your stomach that was growling for nutrition. You were about to cry until headlights glinted at you and you were blinded, your arms coming up to protect yourself. You look up to see a man hop out of the big truck they had owned, and his combat boots crunched under the gravel, a blanket that resembled a type of cheese in his fragile hands.

What the fuck was the name of the cheese?

Oh yeah. Swiss. Swiss fucking cheese. Why own a blanket with that many holes?

He knelt to you, and you were pulling a face, putting a hand to your eyes to block some of the rays. You saw this.. This man, who was youthful and rejuvenated. He was pale, yet his lips were rosy and his obsidian eyes held a mirthful glaze to them. He wrapped it around you and he asked, “You have anywhere to be, princess?”

Exhaling roughly out of your mouth, you were replaying the memory in your mind from the sheer force of Yoongi’s actions. You’ve been with him the longest and you never lied to him. Neither he, to you.

But.. When you found out he was the owner of the gang called BTS; Yoongi.. You met Namjoon and Jimin that same day. Namjoon was livid at how Yoongi found you however he didn’t know how he got in contact with you and Jimin was not happy because of how much weight you used to be since the last time he saw you. That was the only lie you held from Yoongi. That you had known two of these members he recruited from the ashes.

Namjoon and you had an argument a week into staying with the leader and he was in tears, holding your shoulders and telling you to get out of the gang. That it wasn’t safe for you and you had no way of learning how they lived in lifestyle-wise conditions. You were stubborn, shoving him off and telling him that if he decided to live in it, why couldn’t you? It was unfair in that sense. You barely had emotion for him. Just a sliver, and that’s it.

He promised he wouldn’t say anything, and you did too. Same goes for Jimin, and you had a separate conversation with him. It was how it had to be, so that way Yoongi didn’t have a hysterical fit of who had had you before him and ruined you, in his opinion. He was possessive about who was with you and you explained different parts of the story, different names and all.

You slid your fingertips on the cards in a delivered shuffle, clapping them on the table casually as if you weren’t thinking about anything trivial. Taehyung watched you along with Jungkook and Seokjin, their body’s moving with the caravan’s turns up the hills. “I always wanted to learn how to do it like those.. Uh.. Dudes in casino’s, you know?” Jungkook says, and you smirk at him.

“It’s easy when you get the hang of it. You’ll learn soon.”

“We playing cards, now?” Seokjin gave a cough then kneaded at his throat. “I wish I had brought my cough drops with me.”

“I have some, hyung.” Jimin went for his bag while Taehyung was taking a card and flicking the edge of it’s white parts.

“I used to burn cards and let them turn into a whole other suit as a kid. I used to want to be a magician, growing up.”

“Of course you’d burn things. You’re a bomber, Tae.” Namjoon chortled. “You think we wouldn’t suspect you to be the type of guy to work with fire as a kid?”

“I think of Taehyung as the type to burn cats, for some reason,” Seokjin said and you held your hands to your ears.

“Seokjin! What the fuck!”

Jungkook cackled lightly at your reaction, taking over to practice what you were doing.

“You can shoot men in the forehead and clean up blood splatter on your body, but you can’t handle hearing cat’s dying?”

“Not by burning them! What the hell!” You swore angrily, glaring at the eldest. “Stop talking.”

“Fine, fine.” He reached to you and pushed your hands off your ears. “I won’t say it again.”

“Burning cats,” Jimin chimed in on purpose.

“Jimin-ah!” You hiss at him and then smack at his neck over Namjoon’s head and the genius had to defuse you, holding your hands by the wrists.

“No hitting!” Namjoon corrected you, and you were about to spit at his face, tugging your hands from his hold but to no avail. His chest squeezed you to the window when you were going to kick, and you sucked in air greedily, in order to breathe right. He was heavy, and you were going to say Yoongi’s name until figuring out that it would be better to not have Yoongi pull over.

“Get off of me!”

“Will you not hit him? Yoongi will kick our asses if we start fighting back here.”

“Namjoon–!” You wheezed.

“You heard me.”

“This is some good shit.” Jungkook snorted at you the pair who were staring each other down and Taehyung murmured, “Saucy. Wonder if they fucked before and Yoongi doesn’t know?”

“I can hear you!” You respond to Taehyung’s lowered voice, and you squirmed. You couldn’t feel your hands.

“Answer me.” Namjoon told you.

“I won’t hit him, but I will hit you in a second if you don’t get your ugly ass off of me. I can’t breathe! It’s too cramped, here!”

He reluctantly released your hands and let up of his body weight, rubbing your back from the pain of being at your disposition. “Sorry for being too hard. You know how I get if you both fight over my god damn head. As if I’m not there.”

“All I said was–” Jimin started and you inhaled sharply to not get out your switch blade. This was why you broke up with his dumb ass. He was immature. Not to mention, Namjoon was going to get on your nerves if he puts his hands on you like that whenever he gets agitated. You rotated your shoulder blades and shrugged him off, curling your lip for him to not touch you.

“What are we playing?” Seokjin was going to be the dealer in this case, and you attempted to let everything slide. “Black Jack? Gold Fish? Trash Can? Spoons? Bullshit?”

“Many card games in mind, eh? You’re prepared.” Jungkook rested his elbow on the table and tucked his hand on the side of his neck, feeling at the shaved parts that you had trimmed for him a week ago. “I think we should play Spoons.”

“We don’t have any silver ware in this thing, do we?” Jimin raised his eyebrow and eyed the drawers the kitchen had on their other side of the caravan. “I doubt it.”

“You still didn’t answer our questions of where we’re going, Yoongs!” Taehyung cried over a conversation sparking up between Seokjin and Namjoon for what card game they should play, and Yoongi flipped him off.

“Why won’t he tell us?” Jimin says, having turned to see Yoongi be rude.

“Because you guys would probably jump out this damn thing if he did.” You huff.

“We wouldn’t. Where are we going?” Jungkook interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“Well,” You flick your hair out of your eyes and then lace your fingers together in front of you. “We’re going to an island. Called 'noneya’. Which is none of your fucking business.”

He growled then picked at his cuticles, swearing under his breath to your secrecy. “Thanks, a lot. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” You give a cheeky smile and then tap the center of the table for Seokjin to put cards down. “Let’s play Gold Fish.”

The six of you had spent an hour of playing this stupid card game, going around with asking questions and if anyone was going to sacrifice a four or a seven out of chance to have a trio of cards or duo. You were getting bored of it. You wanted to play Bullshit, or Trash Can, or anything else, but they were impossible to agree on something to play without cheating of any kind. You were about to knock Namjoon and Jimin out of the booth to go and sleep on the bed if it had to be like this for any longer.

“You knuckle heads are giving me a migraine.”

“You got any two’s?” Taehyung’s baritone voice dropped.

“Nope.” Jimin pouted out of instinct of not lying.

“You sure about that?”

“Yep.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m not letting you see my cards!” He wailed.

“Let me see!”

“No!”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes, he doesn’t have any two’s, V!” Namjoon groaned.

“Gold motherfucking Fish, Tae. Pick up a card,” Jimin chided.

“Ah…” Seokjin shouldered Jungkook. “You have an ace?”

“Here.” Jungkook handed it over without hesitation, and the eldest was grinning ear to ear.

“Thank you, my lovely maknae.”

“Mm. Don’t burn my food, please.”

“I won’t, now that you handed me the last bit to my hand–” He put down his aces then the rest of cards. “I’m out.”

“Fuck,” Namjoon mouthed without being vocal, furrowing his brows and staring at his cards. “This is a tough game.”

“It’s Gold Fish. How tough can it get?” Taehyung spits.

You’ve been out of the game, from being skilled of knowing if they were being truthful or not, thankfully. “We should move on.”

“How far are we from where we’re going?” Jimin called for Yoongi to hear and Yoongi was keening over the steering wheel. He was straining to not burst a blood vessel and punch Jimin in the mouth.

“We’re going to be there when we get there, jesus christ!” The leader bit out. “Stop asking me! Is this the movie where that little kid asks the parent 'are we there yet’ over and over? No, it fucking isn’t! I might as well throw you over board for talking my ear off while playing a card game back there! Why don’t you drive for a change, huh? I’m the one with the shoulder that has been killing me from the very beginning of today, you piece of shit!”

Taehyung coughed to mask his laugh. Man, Yoongi had no chill.

“Yoongi, I didn’t mean it like that, man! I just wanna know!”

“If you didn’t mean it like that, keep your trap shut! That’s it!”

“Shut the fuck up, everyone! I hate this fucking caravan as it is! You all are arguing and it hasn’t even been that long!” You screech, and Namjoon shielded his ear. “My goodness, get me out of this booth! Now! Move your ass, Joon!”

“But I– Ouch!”

“Ow!”

You punched Namjoon in the bicep with all your strength and Jimin had flailed out of his seat, the over ride of action causing Namjoon to have a domino effect. The caravan was on an abrupt right handed turn and you had to hold the table to steady yourself, still trying with all of your might to exit the table. “I’m gonna– Go lay down!”

You grunt when you tip toed over Jimin’s fallen body on the carpeted floor, marching to the end of the vehicle. Jimin had to be helped up by Namjoon’s useful strength, and they both watched you in worry. They never liked when you had to raise your voice. Taehyung and Jungkook reluctantly didn’t say anything in refute, and Seokjin looked on in fear.

Hoseok had his head phones, not having heard a peep, and was jamming against the wind bag’s compartment. He took out an ear bud when he was waved at by Yoongi’s hand, and his eye’s were feigning being clueless. “Eh? What is it?”

“Go check up on her for me. I’ll handle the map until then.”




The ride had taken a day and a half, and you were in the mountains, the glory and scents of pine waking you up whenever you cracked the window a bit. What surrounded the caravan was thick trunked tree’s with fat bases, or tall evergreen’s with wisps of thin branches to hold it’s color and leaves altogether. The surface emanated earthy textures and rich dirt, which you felt your shoes sinking into every time you went out to have a leak with a bush nearby.

This must be what camper’s deal with or something, and you were getting sick of it. There was no food provided in the caravan, which had the eight of you hungry as hell and dealing with it until they got to Monsta X’s base. Jimin and Jungkook snooped the map for any clues to where they were going, and only Yoongi, you, and Hoseok knew where you were going.

It was the early morning, and you were in the top bunk with Yoongi and Hoseok, while the other bunks were taken up by the other boys. Jungkook, Taehyung took a bunk, Jimin had wanted to sleep in the driver seat, and Namjoon and Seokjin had the fold out table that turned into a bed with the cushions that were on the seats initially.

You snuggled up unconsciously to Hoseok when Yoongi had the corner and was holding onto the blanket for any type of heat other than a human, and you breathed gently on Hoseok’s neck.

He didn’t have a problem with skinship; the problem he had with sleeping was that he was a cuddle bug and he tended to get carried away. You didn’t want to remember that one time you had a threesome with him and Yoongi, it was.. Not intended, and you were drunk as hell. You don’t remember every detail.. However.

His lips felt nice on yours.

Hoseok sniffed, his face wrinkling and his body fanning out his feet then his arm to go around you without disturbing you. He was sleepy, and he placed his head on yours, laying his palm on your arm and rubbing it in a loving manner. Protective, whenever Yoongi couldn’t protect you, that was his job. It could happen to be a passing-down to, if Yoongi died, he would definitely give you permission to have Hobi.

You didn’t really find Hobi in that line of attraction.. He was great, yes. Albeit his two-faced personality, you didn’t think he would be your match. Basically a fling.

Jungkook was being hugged by Taehyung praying mantis type of arms, and he was uncomfortable, wanting his own space. “Taehyung.. Nngh..”

Namjoon and Seokjin snored together, drowning out noises from any one else if they decided to speak.

You firmly grasped Hoseok’s figure, sliding a leg to go over his waist and he had to hold in a muffled, “Shit.”

“Mm? What?” You whisper.

“Nothin’, nothin’.”

“Can I get on top of you?”

“What? No.”

The confined space had to bring yourself nearly on top of him, and he had to wrap his arms around your back, your mouth barely grazing his collarbone. He was in disbelief, and you chuckled, squeezing him to you as if he was a teddy bear. “You’re warm.”

“And you’re going to get my foot up your ass,” He hissed halfheartedly. He didn’t want Yoongi to see this.

“We’re fine. It’s not like you like me or anything. We’re best friends.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, enduring it anyways and he cleared his throat before gruffly saying, “You’re crushing my nuts.”

“Want me to kiss them?”

Hoseok impatiently bunched your shirt in his hands and he narrowed his eyes down to you. “You’re heavy. Don’t make jokes like that.”

“You’re getting hard, so I mean..”

“God damn it.”

“Heh.” You teased; and he was obviously getting hard from a 'joke’ as he calls it. You ignore it then slide up his body and peck his cheek. “Remember that threesome?”

“Yes.” Hoseok swerved his sight to Yoongi who was bed-ridden and his breathing was in moderate intervals. He anxiously pawed at your ribs. “Get off of me, before he sees.”

“He’s listening, you know that?”

“No he isn’t. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Hobi, he told me himself he liked that threesome.”

“He.. What?”

You pull yourself back and then wink. “You don’t have to act so mean to me all the time, you know.”

“You.. What?” He repeated and he was at loss for words, a very slight blush staining his cheekbones. He then spluttered with, “You’re.. Not serious?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“Yoongi?” Hoseok wanted to check to see if you were lying and you cup a hand on his jaw, making him gaze at you instead.

“You can kiss me.”

“No way.” He was terribly bad at this, and he wasn’t sure if you were being genuine. “You’d never let me do that in a million years.”

“I wouldn’t? Who said I wouldn’t?”

“If this is some prank..”

“Come on. Lay one on me.”

“I.. I don’t know.” His head was lolling to stare at something else other than you. Hoseok wasn’t going to kiss you, where Yoongi could hear and see, and in this setting. It was wrong and he was his best friend. Yeah– Sure, you had a threesome and whatever but that was because of alcohol buzzing in his system and you guys were kinky as shit when put together. “I can’t, when he’s right there.”

“Want me to do it then?”

“No, to be honest.”

“You don’t let anyone get intimate with you, do you?”

“I can get intimate, don’t play that game with me.” He snidely remarked.

“Then don’t be a pussy and give me a kiss. On the lips, not the nose or cheek or anything.”

“You’re demanding.”

“And you’re still hard.”

“You little–”

You kissed his lips when he parted them and he gave a high pitched yelp, waiting for you to release him. You sound out a 'mwah’ when you let go and you giggle.

Yoongi sprang to turn and get his phone from his fake sleeping position, the gleam of his camera going off. Hoseok shouted in fright at the beam of light pointing at him and he panted as if he ran a marathon, clutching his heart. You climbed off of him and went to Yoongi, turning his phone to you to see if he got the shot.

“Did you get it? Did you get it?”

“What the.. What the fuck!” Hobi glared daggers and it felt as if he could burn a hole into your head.

“Damn, I missed the timing!” Yoongi clicked his tongue.

“Did I get pranked!” The wing man hissed.

“Sorry dude, but yeah.” The leader smirked, and he put his phone in his pocket, clearly satisfied with himself. “Oh man, that was good to listen to.”

“You were awake?”

“I am rather proud of you, my guy. You didn’t touch my girl inappropriately, and you took the kiss like a champ. You deserve a raise or something.”

“Yoongi!” He exaggerated, his palm going over his nose and shut eyes. “You made my dick get hard because your girlfriend– Then scared the shit out of me with your damn phone!”

You and Yoongi laughed and then shushed each other with a finger to your lips’, finding joy in pranking the one man who wouldn’t murder them absolutely for this prank.

“You guys are awful. I hate sleeping in this bunk with you.”

“You love us. And maybe we’ll consider another threesome if we get alcohol some time.” Yoongi cheered it on, then got himself to be on his elbow, using pressure to see the whereabouts of his gang members. “Are they awake by how you screamed like a girl?”

“I didn’t scream. I don’t scream like a girl, either, Yoongs. Shut up,” Hoseok grumbled, then went to slip out of the bed. “Is Jungkook sleeping with Taehyung again?”

“Yeah. Are they awake though?”

“Uhh..” He peered behind the closed slab of fabric and moved it to see Taehyung yawning. “Yes.”

“Good. We need to get everyone awake for a bathroom break and then drive.”

An engine revving went off in the distance, and you shot up to hit your head on the roof of the caravan, your jaw dropping. “Ow! Shit.. What was that?”

Yoongi had the same exact expression, his legs scrambling and flying up to get himself up and out to go down to where Jimin was sleeping. He gripped the car seats from behind and leaned himself down to see outside the windshield, eyelashes flaring from his mono lids. Was there another car or something out there?

It was a second caravan, and it was bigger than their’s. It was backing up in Yoongi’s vision, his fingertips turning white by how much he held onto the leather of the seat. “There’s a second caravan. I’m going to check it out– Yah!”

A bang on the door that is for entering the mid section of the van was harsh, and the leader had gotten jump scared, his frustrating blinks aimed at the person who was possibly going to kick down the poor structure.

“Bangtan Sonyeondan! Rise and shine, bitches!” Screamed a man you’ve never heard until now.

“Who the..?” Seokjin was being advised to stand, his shirtless self groggy. “Is that Jooheon? We’re here? I barely felt us driving, if we’re here.”

Namjoon was knocked out cold, and Jimin was shaking, the noises coming at all angles. The caravan was being beat on by multiples of hands, and Jungkook was going to stand, trembling from the jitters.

“Open, guys! It’s Monsta X! Wake up!”

“Ah! Really?!” Jimin had to knead his eyes. “They could’ve just said that! Gave me a heart attack.”

Yoongi reached and pulled on the door, the blast of rigid air hitting the both of you in the face. His aura was in rage. “You sent us a caravan with no food, and I’m not happy!”

The weather was not pleasant, your teeth chattering. Shit. White was flying around the environment, and you had to not lose yourself in mesmerizing the season.

“Is that any way to speak to us after we’re saving your asses from imprisonment?” A muscular and tan babe from the back chanted.

“You’re damn right! We’re starving and you guys wake us up by hooping and hollering out in the middle of the woods?” The leader wasn’t having this, and you were crossing your arms, taking a step to see who it is.

“Oh my.. What a lovely lady you got there. She’s prettier in person, dude.” What seemed to be a chipmunk looking fella, you swat your hand at him.

“Thanks. But no, I don’t want to fuck you,” You manage to say, and Yoongi had to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Yoongi goes, “Is this your base?”

“Hell no. This is our hunting field!”

“Shut up, Minhyuk, you’re not supposed to say where our food sources are? They have camera’s out here, idiot!”

You couldn’t keep up with who was who and you stomp your foot. “Okay! Who will tell me who is who! I can’t put a name to a face.”

The leader of Monsta X snorted. “That’s cutting to the chase, doesn’t it? Alright then. I’m Jooheon. This is Kihyun, the one who called you pretty.”

Kihyun waved, and you gave a bittersweet grin. He seemed to be flirty, maybe? You couldn’t tell.

“The one who was quite right about the imprisonment part, is Hyunwoo. Please call him Shownu.”

Shownu had small eyes when he smiled, your throat swallowing on a lump being formed in there. He seemed as if he could carry boulders.

“I’m Hyungwon.” The man who had a crossbow diagonal on his chest nodded to you. He was a quiet-type. Good.

“I am Minhyuk!” Minhyuk sent you a eager wave unlike Kihyun. Bouncy and energetic. Maybe a match for Taehyung or Seokjin?

A man who had a sniper strapped to him had his turn, “My name is Hoseok. You can call me Wonho. Hello.” His hair stood out; white with blue tips. Ooh? Two gangs with two members who had the same name? You’d have to call him Wonho indefinitely.

“I’m always last, what the fuck, Jooheon? Why can’t I be second?” The last man remained and he was sulking.

“Just say your name, dumb ass.”

“I’m Changkyun. I go by I.M, but you can call me Changkyun.” His brown hair was parted, and his alabaster skin had sweat glistening in layers. “I am sweaty, so don’t hug me if you want to hug me.”

“Why would she want to hug you, that’s number one–” Kihyun rounded on him and Changkyun became offended by his comment.

“Let’s explain what we do,” Jooheon had officially lined them up as if they were in the military. He didn’t care if your crew were sleeping or going to come to the doorway to see. They all wore camouflage, black boots, and paint on their faces. They must be hunters of some sort, counting the cross bow and sniper.

“Hyungwon is my cross bow, Wonho is my sniper, Kihyun likes to experiment with climbing shit,” The leader of Monsta X gestured to the trees. “Like those.”

“Okay..?” You absorbed this all in, albeit your knowledge of their skills.

“Shownu is in charge of spotting. That’s what I call it, he can see animals from afar and that’s how we eat every night. Changkyun is our sharp shooter. He’s precise with guns..”

“Aren’t we all?” You smirk knowingly and Jooheon had to stand there for a second and stare at you.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“With the paint on your faces, I’d say you look like kindergartener’s learning how to finger paint for the first time.”

Yoongi guffawed then covered his mouth, having to bring you to his hip. “Ho.. Holy shit, babe.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” The leader tsked, then used his finger to indicate his member, however you interrupted him.

“I get the whole factions and everything, Jooheon. I do. I’ve heard of you guys. You don’t need to tell me.”

It was true; Yoongi had told you in the GOT7’s warehouse, revealing their information without a thought of how they would feel for being exposed. It was fresh, they were good, and they had style while doing what they do. There was different kinds of gangs in towns, and they were rather unique. They didn’t rob banks, they made their money from selling carcasses to the hungry carnivores. AKA your enemies. They believed that your companions should be close, but enemies closer.

They weren’t exactly kind. They weren’t giving. Or encouraging to be friends with anybody.

This opportunity to be living with them was as much as being acquaintances, not friends.

Jackson and Jooheon were great friends lowkey.. And Jooheon had a sort of jealous beef with Yoongi over a heist they once did as teenagers. Jooheon wasn’t happy to hear and be ridiculed by his girlfriend, shuffling himself to the couple. “What do you do, by chance, Yoongi? I haven’t heard of anything new from Jackson other than you all going hitchhiking or something like that.”

“We weren’t hitchhiking, for your information.” Yoongi put his lips in a thin line.

“He’s a mafia leader, what do you think he does? Skip stones?” You answered for him, and your boyfriend was appreciating your boldness.

“Oh? Is that right?”

“You seem surprised.” Yoongi was smug. “I’m still in the game.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m disappointed. It’s a measly thing to let your girlfriend talk for you. Ah.. You never seemed to like my way of living as a cleaner gang, here in the wilderness and not around petty bullshit.”

To prevent further altercations on this subject, you say, “To not make this awkward as fuck, why don’t I get started on asking you something.” Your hands were held at your lower back, gratified. “Where is your base? Is it far?”

“It’s up the trails, if you follow the shrubbery.” He showed you the way, stepping away. “I hope you don’t get lost. Bears are known in this area.”

“Bears?” Seokjin’s voice went up an octave when he got out of bed, and you had nothing to be scared of. You’ve been camping.

“Bears, yes. Hi, Jin.”

“Yoongi, get me the fuck out of here, please.” Seokjin whimpered to him.

“Fuck no! I’m not driving all the way back to Daegu!” Yoongi howled, and he slapped his hands on his thighs in disapproval towards his crew member. “You’re the eldest and you can’t handle bears?”

“H-Have you seen a bear, Min Yoongi?” Seokjin’s eyes were as big as plates and he stuttered.

“Nice Hello-Kitty boxers, by the way!” Minhyuk cheerily mentions, your eyes lowering to Seokjin’s attire.

Yoongi didn’t catch onto that until he saw. “…I told you not to bring those, Seokjin!”

BTS crowded Yoongi, Seokjin and you, them in their pajamas and what not.

“Don’t tell me we’re here to stay with them..” Jungkook mumbled.

“Yes, we are, Jungkookie.” Taehyung put his fist to eye and rubbed at it. “Sadly. I figured after we passed the city limits.”

“I hate you all,” Jimin’s sweater paws went over his face, scrubbing whatever chubbiness he had left in his cheeks. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“Count me in for that one.” Namjoon headed to the driver’s seat. “Close that door, I’ll drive it up.”




You and BTS were at the path to the cabins, the caravan parked in the lines spray painted on the trunk of a cedar tree. You were bundled up in a coat along with Yoongi, his scarf going around his face and neck, nose pink and his eyes closed midway because of winds bellowing around him. You had to wear ear muffs and gloves, staring at the sheen of snow that was littered on the wood and window sills that were built into the walls from the exterior. You walked with him, hands holding his. “You forgot your gloves?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, sweetie.” You whisper to him, bringing his hand up to kiss the top of it. He delivered a gummy smile your way and you gaped at each other, enthralled to be in love.

“Who knew mountains could have forests scattered around? It’s beautiful.”

“You think so?”

Yoongi sucked in air sharply through his teeth and he scanned the latter of the home Monsta X made of themselves. “I wonder if they’ve ever bothered to live in a city. Think they huddle like penguins for warmth inside those cabins?”

You pinch his cheek faintly then cup his cheekbones, his hands attached to yours still. “You’re beyond adorable when you’re cold and grumpy.”

“You’re right about cold, grumpy though..” He closed one of his eyes at you in uncertainty.

“You’re not upset?”

“No, why would I be?”

“I thought you hated them?”

“I do. Don’t get me wrong. I do feel that they deserve a bit of respect for getting us here. That’s it.”

You take a moment to pause.

“Let me know if you want to go.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Yoongi pulled you to him, meeting your chest with his and his breath was coming out in icy puffs.

“Just let me know.”

“Okay.”

“Is that my twinkie truck?” Taehyung screamed a few feet up of the pair and his footsteps were slipping on ice to run to it. “I’m going to kill Changkyun!”

Jungkook was throwing snowballs at Jimin, Jimin’s bat being swung at every one he had thrown while Seokjin and Namjoon were talking about the bears that Seokjin was going to be cautious for. Hoseok was being a loner, his lips pursed and losing color while his hair was wispy. He had this sensation of being misunderstood, and from this morning’s prank, he was uncomfortable.

“Is this where we’ll be staying, Yoongi?” Hoseok called out to the sandy haired leader.

Yoongi curtly nods and Hoseok repeats the action in acknowledgement. Monsta X were taking care of the food situation, the population increasing from you arriving with the boys. It was good that they had saw them by chance on their task of hunting, their equipment loaded and ready for the journey.

“How long do you think it will take for them to get back from hunting?” Jimin talks to break the draft.

“Hunting can take hours, ChimChim.” Namjoon replied, his hands holding a fallen branch and swishing it about.

“I could eat bark.. Become a termite.. How about that?” Seokjin said to himself, entirely miserable.

“I’d rather you not do that.” Yoongi went to the front door of the housing, and he found that it was unlocked, the fireplace having been burning for them. He hobbled in with you, his swooping vision going to the staircase for the higher levels of the cabin and to the living room. It was lively and roomy, the candles flickering on the mantle. Pictures were framed on the coffee tables, showing achievements or family photos.

They were awful people according to Yoongi, yet seeing them smiling in the photo’s said otherwise. Them with their parents or siblings had you all emotional. You wished you had a better upbringing and didn’t despise your family. You had Yoongi, and that made you feel whole, but there will always be that part missing. The men walked in and cleaned their boots on the mats, their coats being put on hangers.

“Have you been here, Yoongi?” You ask him and squeeze his wrist.

“Haven’t been here.. In about.. eight or nine years or so.”

“You must have been young.”

“I was tiny as shit and same was Jooheon. Jooheon had a mouth on him as a kid. Let’s go see if they have anything to drink.”




To pass time, you all were on the sofa’s or on the rugs, having found their stash of alcohol, and ramen packs. You all were cooking or getting buzzed, chopsticks digging into the porcelain bowls that none of them wondered if it was for decorative purposes or not. You may have been reckless– Yoongi was the one to suggest to eat and have what they liked. Monsta X may or may not be angry, BTS couldn’t care.

Monsta X came with their skinned goods, and they were.. Passive? That you had their food stuffed in cheeks’ and chugging beer? Jooheon couldn’t give two fucks for the ramen packs, the meat being all there’s and they had a plentiful harvest in the garden house that was upgraded thanks to their experimenting with seasonal crops. They cheated how crops were grown and it was yearly eating for vegetables or fruits, no matter what.

Taehyung went to I.M and barked about how the twinkie truck was his, and he got shoved to his seat by flicking his forehead. “Yah! That is my twinkie truck!”

“It’s mine, Tae, don’t fight me on this. I got to it first.”

“Did you leave any beer for us?” Hyungwon sprinted to the fridge, the activated freezer portion preserving the temperature inside. “Yes!”

“Are we all getting drunk tonight?” Kihyun was bouncy, running his tongue on the edge of his teeth. “Fuck yes.”

Sitting yourself by Yoongi on the couch, you were sandwiched by him and Shownu, his smile on his face growing as the drinks were passed around. It was eery, they weren’t getting along earlier, and now they were because of whatever reason. You swallowed down bitter liquid and then took a bite of ramen when Jungkook didn’t want to finish his, your once cold fingers being warmed up by the heat of the bowl’s underside.

“Wonho, put your sniper away! Come sit!” Minhyuk guided him to be on a pillow, the coffee table in the center. The circle of men was vast and you were having the time of your life, their jokes and conversations breaking out.

“How come they’re not being asses to us?” You say into Yoongi’s ear, and he shrugged.

“They must be bipolar. Got no clue.”

You give up on questioning their behavior and it must be because they must have shot bountiful animals to feed them for months or something. You put your hands on your lap and laughed at the idea of playing Spin The Bottle. Wonho wanted to play it and begged for Jooheon to not leave the room because he didn’t want to play it. You were in on this and so was Jimin, his lips being swathed in chapstick.

“I don’t want to play that, Wonho!”

“Why not, Jooheon?” He giggled and then put the green bottle in the center of the coffee table.

“I don’t wanna play it either.” Hyungwon was grossed out, taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh come on! Who doesn’t want to test their limits?” Kihyun wasn’t all in, but.. He would do it if he didn’t get smooched too much. That was his rule.

“I’m in.” Minhyuk scooted himself to a leg of the coffee table, his arms leaning on the floor and holding onto the frayed ends of the rug underneath his pillow that he was sitting on.

“You’re the gayest one out of all of us, how could you not say no?” I.M knocked back a shot at the bar that was installed by the kitchen, and he coughed.

“True.” Minhyuk agreed, not bashful.

“Alright.. You guys in?” Jooheon entertained this for the sake of Wonho not being sad for the night. He’s a sensitive guy.

“I guess so..” Yoongi massaged your arm with a hand then wormed his arm to lay on your shoulder. “You wanna play?”

“Yeah. Why not.”

“I’m ready!” Jimin raised a hand as if he was in school.

“I was watching you lather yourself in chapstick practically, Jimin,” Taehyung sneered.

“You’re jealous because I have kissing game and your only talent is to eat out pussy.” He groused. Well, he wasn’t wrong on that, he did have good kisses.

“He can eat pussy?” Shownu reached over to high five Taehyung and Taehyung laughed aloud at his impressed expression. “You’re the shit. That’s what dedication is, my dude.”

Jungkook was neutral, Namjoon and Seokjin were gazing at the bottle with contempt and it was all fucked until the bottle was spun. Wonho was hoping it would land after his rules that he set. “You have to kiss the person to your right! On the lips! You can use tongue!”

“How lovely.” Yoongi said under his breath and you were distressed, Shownu being to your right if it landed on you.

“If not–” He said over the sound of their complaints. “You can pick who you wanna kiss in replacement!”

“That’s not better!” Kihyun joked, and Hyungwon had to fight a bubbling chortle.

“I will not kiss Changkyun.” Taehyung cramped himself to Jungkook, being thigh to thigh.

“Hoseok, you okay?” Wonho brought his attention to the stiff man that was not as bright as his friends. “You want to sit out?”

“Yeah, please?” Hoseok asked and he was allowed to leave the cabin, the door shutting after him in a click.

The bottle landed on Kihyun, and he turned to Shownu, in which they both had the room catcalling. He leaned up then held Shownu’s jaw in place, pecking his lips faster than what Wonho considered to be a kiss.

“Ah! Hey! That wasn’t a kiss!”

“Suck my ass, Wonho! That was a kiss, on the lips!”

Shownu had gotten red in the cheeks, and he shushed Kihyun up by kissing his lips full on balling his hands in his vest. Your mouth turned into an 'o’ shape at the event and Yoongi was terrified internally by how Shownu had grabbed the man’s outfit.

“Okay, okay! I get it! Shownu, let him breathe!”

Kihyun’s lips were swollen. He was a deer in headlights, and he was speechless, being put back on his chair. “Holy fuck, dude. That was a trip.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Next up is..!”

The bottle landed on Jimin and he was being clapped on the spine, his nervousness obvious. “Uhh..” He looked to the right and he was by Jungkook. “Do I have to kiss you?”

“No, you can replace him with someone else.” Wonho grinned, putting his hands under his chin in pleasure. This was a memory he won’t forget.

“I’ll.. Uh.. Pick Yoongi?”

“Me? You shithead!” Yoongi had to restrain himself. “Do I have to go over to him or does he come to me?”

“Jimin, go up there!” Wonho encouraged, and he watched the athletic boy waddle to his leader, Jimin’s small hands being put on Yoongi’s torso.

“Don’t you dare use tongue, Jimin.” Yoongi stared up at him. You weren’t ready for this, soul, body and mind, and you were told to not look. Jimin decreased the kissing time by half a minute, their lips meeting and Taehyung was losing his shit, whacking several pillows on Jungkook.

“They’re kissing, holy fuck–!”

Yoongi parted his lips to growl and Jimin had pushed in, his knees almost bending to kneel on the arm rest. You squealed then poked at Jimin. “Okay, okay! That’s enough kissing my boyfriend.”

The leader put his fingers on his lips when he released him, and he pushed at Jimin’s stomach. “What did you do that for!”

“What did he do?”

“He bit my lip!”

“By accident! You were making sounds on my lips!”

“Ooh, was he enjoying it?” Wonho wiggled around and had put his hands on both sides of his own face. He then said in a whisper, “This is a miracle, oh my gosh. We’re drunk as hell.”




You and Yoongi tangled limbs on the sofa when the games were over, memorizing the inches of snow that were outside and draped a blanket on your legs to keep your feet from getting frostbite. You were in a sweater and sweats, same for him. It was almost like a couple’s outfit, and he had wanted to do this for a while. You kissed his neck and left love bites, not too dark and not viciously.

The pale skin was a blank canvas until you added teeth and he had to tell you to not continue despite how much he loved it. He didn’t want to get an erection, being a fan of hickeys. You were lulling him to rest instead, while everyone started to drop like flies. They were out of their minds for bringing out the vodka and they had partied too much to when they ended up passing out.

Yoongi was in his post-drinking naps, and you stroked his hair with feather light touches.

“You still awake, princess?”

You garbled the version of words from whoever talked to you then you saw it was Namjoon.

“Yeah, why?”

“Here.. Let me get you up.”

Namjoon and you were the only people awake, his golden forearms holding you by the midriff to help you up, bringing you with him to the staircase. Propping you up, he sent you a dimpled smile and you returned it with grace. “I want to explore the house while they’re all sleeping. Wanna do it with me?”

“Sure.”

He had clasped his hand in yours, and you didn’t mind it until he was holding it in intentional ways. As if he was planning to do something with you. Where was he going specifically? Why was he jittery? Why was he checking over his shoulder every other minute? Why was he going through the halls like he knows where everything is already?

You get strands of your hair out of your eyes when you see a door that had no locks or anything on it, his hand turning on the knob then walking in with you, hand in hand. You saw the guest bed and it’s rails for the headboard, your voice erupting in the mood. “Every time I see rails on a bed, it gets me thinking of kinky things. I don’t know why.”

“That’s strange.” He simultaneously kicked the door to close, relinquishing a sigh through his nose. “This room smells like old people.”

“It does.” You snigger.

“I want you to know something,” He twirled a dreidel that laid on a silky centerpiece and he wanted to go for what he was thinking.

“What may that be?” You jump onto the bed then spread your legs on the blanket, energetically swimming your train of thoughts.

“I love you.”

You had thumbed the threading that was coming out of the sheets, and you had halted everything. He didn’t just say..?

“I love you, baby.”

“Namjoon–” Your chin tilts up, your legs being brought to cross into themselves. “I think you’re drunk. That’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible.” His tone was mysterious in how he talked to you and he took a deep inhale on choosing his words wisely. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I know that.”

“No you don’t. You’re with Yoongi and you’re blinded by his.. Attraction to you. He only loves you because he thinks no one else will love him if you leave him.” The genius carded a hand in his hair and he fumbled to put the dreidel back on it’s laid out presentation. The knick knacks in the bedroom were arousing his diversion.

“You’re.. You think I’m with Yoongi out of pity, or the other way around? I’m confused.”

“I think you should leave him and flee with me.” He bowed his head, then faced the ceiling, unwavering his stance.

“You’ll leave the gang? Just like that? He’s your friend. And he’s my boyfriend. I don’t think so,” Your daze was coming to a cliff, your dignity being held up. “Namjoon, take a second to think about what you’re asking or saying.”

“I’m telling you I love you, and you’re going to reject me? You’ve left me because of a mistake that I made, yeah.. But.. Now that you’re here, I could’ve had my chances to have you in my arms. Except for Yoongi loving you and manipulating you. I want to tell him so badly that you love me too–” He had to stop his sentence from going too far and your eyes were watering.

What? What was he trying to do?

“Don’t you dare fucking say anything to him, Namjoon. I don’t love you.” You felt that he was poison, tearing you at the seams for this.. Ultimatum, if you could call it that?

“So you’re going to lie to yourself? That you don’t love me? An ounce of it isn’t left? We were together for a year.”

“I’ve been with Yoongi for more than that!” You argued, though your voice didn’t go up in volume.

“Minus the month he spent scooping beans onto cafeteria trays and wearing a fish net. Pleading with gangs to break him out and watch over you like some.. Fuckin’ guardian angel behind the scenes. I was the only person other than him who wanted to tell you that I was okay, that I was fine. To come out of the shadows and tell you that life would be better if we were on our own. I had a plan.”

“What plan was that?”

“To go back to how we used to be before I decided joining a gang would help me heal.”

“You and your fucking depression, dude.. You need help.” You practically hated when he would have his times of not coming over in the past to see you and doubting that you were real or if anything in the world was real. He was smart, but not smart in efforts to be mentally healthy.

“I need you. Not help.” He paced to you slowly and he held a sphere on the tip of a pillar at the foot of the bed. “I need you.”

“Namjoon.. I..” You winced at a pang of pain in your brain. “You’re being an ass.”

“How?”

“You’re..”

“I’m..?” He kept trying to end your sentences, his hands splaying on either of your legs and bending to see your face. His forehead knocked with yours softly and you reminisced him being like this with you. It was fleeting, and he smelled like the alcohol intake he had and vanilla. You bit your bottom lip, not wanting to go through with this.

“Namjoon, back up..”

“No. I want you.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.. You just.. Don’t know it until I..”

You shake like a leaf, his nose sliding up of yours and his eyes were hooded, luring you in effectively. His lips were velvety as ever, and you could tell he took care of them to not be irksome in the present and future. You let out a moan when he took initiative, kissing you and pushing insistingly. You were subdued, your hands crawling up to dig your nails on his biceps.

It was needy and somber, the kiss. He missed you, and he was earnestly wanting your affection. Your groan cracked when he nibbled on your bottom lip, his fingers intertwined in the bedding to get himself on top of you, his weight causing the springs in the mattress to creak. You clawed at his skin, and he wheezed, heaving his chest from the agony.

“Serves you right,” You yap at him.

“Shut up, jagi.” Namjoon gnashed his teeth together then favored for your neck, suckling on your pulse and pinning your upper half down with his. He was aggressive, taking what he thought was his and you snivel at the torment.

“Let up, Namjoon- That hurts.”

“My heart hurts too, and you don’t see me weeping.” He snipped, and you grip his face to have him see you.

“You can kiss me and dry hump me or whatever.. But.. Y-You’re not fucking me,” You slur.

“I wouldn’t be capable of raping you, what do you take me for?”

“You..” You begin to talk, but a sob was creeping up. Your waterline was brimming with tears suddenly and you couldn’t hold the flood gates. “I don’t love you. This is a one time thing. Y-You hear me?”

“I can do whatever I want except sex?”

“Yeah..”

He resumed marking up your neck, and you had wailed when the suction would be entirely of pain and nothing else, finding solace in bashing him on his head on arms if he wouldn’t let up. Your yowling was ignored and he had to hush you up in hurried lip locks, not wanting Monsta X to wake. This culpability wasn’t to be quenched, it was powerful, overwhelming your awareness to how bad this will turn out.

Yoongi would be.. Devastated.

These bruises on you was the evidence to another man wanting you, and Yoongi didn’t meddle with affairs well. He would be ruthless.

While you laid there, clasping onto Namjoon’s short hair and pulling mercilessly, you didn’t know what to feel, what to think or to say. You were numb. “Namjoon, shit,” You throw your head back, rolling your eyes into their sockets when it was turning into pleasure by his tongue.




You had to hide it all.

Act as if Namjoon hadn’t made you suffer for however it long it took to form the hickeys.

You wore your coat and Yoongi’s scarf religiously for hours; and you were poised, having Yoongi wake up to some herbal tea in an ancient tea set displayed for him on the coffee table.

“Isn’t it warm in here for you to be wearing that?” You heard him growl out. He was out of it, taking the tea by the loop of his digit and drinking in the steam to unclog his nostrils.

“I was outside.. I’m a bit cold.” You lie, and you don’t react. “I’m gonna be outside a lot today, since I want to take in the scenery. How about that? You wanna go do it later?”

“You’re wearing my scarf..” He didn’t listen to your wants, and he touched it, your face draining. You peck his hand in a flash, then get him to hold your face, in which he did as you guided him to do what you desired, his eye-smile proving his merriment.

“Do you love me, Yoongi?” You needed to soothe your internal wounds.

“What is that question?” He tittered.

“Please love me.”

“Honey.. I already do.” He calmed you down with that, and he patted you to beckon you to him. You tolerated this; having him kiss between your eyebrows.

“You promise?” You grit out, then you force yourself to swallow in difficulty. This was.. Horrible.

“I promise. I love you, jagiya. What’s gotten into you?” He cradled your face and he sought for you to comply.

“Nothing. Nothing, I am getting lonely.”

“There’s no need to be lonely, babe. I’m right here.”

“Yeah.. You’re right here..” You reiterated for yourself and you quaked under his reassurance.

He had taken all of his tea, the hang over being the last of his worries. He wanted you to be okay, and he had you on his watch for the hours that went by. Monsta X was stoking a bonfire out in the lawn, getting stones and benches to circle the pit. Bags of marshmallows, boxes of graham crackers and bars of chocolate were in a plastic bag, thanks to Hoseok bringing it from inside the caravan. He had a hunch about you, his glances to you being of suspicion.

You had to fight not to tell him what happened. He was Yoongi’s best friend.. And.. He was known for knowing what happens around the crew. Without any explanation. He was a sneaky man. You don’t want him to blurt anything.

Hoseok was prowling the Monsta X members, being of use to find branches or cutting down a tree they had been multiplying. Jungkook was minding his business, Jimin was talking to Taehyung about how twinkies taste like dog food, and Namjoon was doing a TT dance with Seokjin for shits and giggles. You were wrapped around Yoongi’s finger, except you were taking distance if he wanted to feel you up.

You refused to give him his scarf when he said he wanted to wear it.

“Why can’t I wear my scarf? It’s my scarf.”

“I love it that much, that’s why.”

“That’s nice, but my neck is freezing. Yours is toasty. Hand it over.”

“No!” You hug him tightly and he chokes, stumbling to see if he could be balanced. “I don’t want to!”

“Stop! I’m gonna–” He didn’t want to fall over, and he did it anyway, his backside hitting the hard soil.

He growled, frustrated and getting you off of him by a push. “All I wanted was my scarf! Now give it to me, stop playing games!”

“Yoongi-ah..” You gulp.

“I don’t want to hear that, give it.” He put his hand out and you struggled to not be a bitch about it or be overly cute to avert his wrath.

“But..”

“Stop stalling!” In vexation; he yanked the scarf off of you. His frosty lashes were aimed downwards, not having seen anything that was on your collarbone. He got up after being on all fours, wiping his coat of moist dirt and snow in it’s dirty blend. You snatched your hands up to pretend you had a crick in your neck, and you panic, not yet having stood.

“I think I hurt my neck during the fall.. I should go inside.”

“You’re at fault for that.” Yoongi raveled the scarf on him, and then he was crouching to you. “Take my hand.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, don’t be salty with me because of what you did. They’re watching.”

You see how the rest of BTS looked on, and Namjoon was ablaze, knowing what would happen if he saw the hickeys. The night air was bleak and polar, no evaporating breaths coming from your mouth nor nostrils. You had held it in your lungs, and you were petrified.

He grew weary of waiting on you and he seized your hands, escalating your anxiety. He was solidified by what he saw, and the blotches of your hickeys were in view, around the collar of your coat. You would have doused foundation on you.. You didn’t have any or bring any with you. You were upright, straightened and your legs were of jelly.

“Yoongi..”

“Is this what you were..” Concerted; He then dismissed your brooding face. “I did that, didn’t I?”

Was this magic? Was he that oblivious?

“Y-Yeah. These are yours! Yeah! I didn’t want anyone to see!” You tweaked your pitch and that’s when he became astray. Awry, you endeavored to not be crooked. “You don’t remember.”

“That’s right. I don’t remember jack shit.” Lax and rubbing the stubble on his chin, he was high-strung. “Wait..”

“You don’t remember, that’s okay.” You rush to say.

He stares at you, retracing his steps. “I do remember sleeping.”

“We slept after you did this. It’s no big deal,” You tell him, skittish on your lying.

“I don’t.. I don’t make those kind of hickeys. I’ve never bitten you like that. I might have been wasted, but.. I’d never do that to you.”

Your brain was running a mile a minute, muddled and disarranged. You had to deactivate him from overthinking, and you smile in a quick-witted way. “Ah! But you did! You see..”

“No, I don’t see how my judgement should be questioned. I know what I’m about when I’m drunk. Do you think I’d bite you in that way and suck like a vampire? The fuck is this?” He was losing in this battle of what was going on, and he saw how the process of getting the bonfire up was not skipping. The matches were lit and the flames licked, the smoke swirling to the sky.

Yoongi had your coat collar in his knuckles and he dragged you to go with him. “Alright you fucking assholes!”

“Yoongi, no!” You cheep.

“Nah nah, I want to know if one of you had a piece of her!”

“No, please, I swear they didn’t do anything!”

“Was it you!?” Yoongi roared at I.M and he saw the boy drop his batch of sticks in his arms from the impact of his seething.

“Woah, Yoongs. I didn’t fuck her.”

“So you marked up her neck?”

“I didn’t do anything to her. I swear.”

“You all are a bunch of pussies!” Yoongi shook you for emphasis on his statement. “This is my girlfriend. Mine. And I want to know who fuckin’ did this!”

“Hey hey hey–” Jooheon came out from being inside of the cabin to hear Yoongi’s tantrum and he was looking from you, then to him in madness. “You’ll cause a damn avalanche, you dipshit! Shut up!”

“Was it you, then?”

“What did I do?”

“Did you fuck her, and mark her neck up like a god damn animal?” Yoongi’s grip didn’t loosen.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Please shut up.”

“So none of you have any recollection of last night? Are you kidding me?” His mocha irises were glazed and he exhaled roughly.

“It was me.”

You gasp over your shoulder to hear the man that was in the wrong, confess. If you weren’t already in a badgered sentiment, you would be sympathetic for him. Namjoon had Seokjin be sitting down on the tree stump, his hands clammy.

“It.. Was me,” Namjoon had to reveal himself as the perpetrator, the criminality for having what wasn’t his being laden in animosity. “I did that to her. Last night.”

Yoongi’s crestfallen face washed over in an instant, arm falling in mid air as he set you free. He couldn’t believe who had confessed, pivoting to Namjoon. “You..?”

“Yeah. Me.”

“This is fake, right? This is some joke?” Yoongi’s smile rose out of relief and hoping it was, your lips revolving a frown.

“No. It isn’t.”

That wiped it clean.

“You piece of shit.” The leader spat.

“Ooh, this some Kardashian drama right fuckin’ here,” Shownu murmured to Jungkook and the maknae was fearing for Namjoon’s life at this rate.

“Why? Give me the answer to that.”

“Because.”

“'Because’ isn’t an answer, Namjoon.”

“I love her.”

A wave of lethargy was migrating to Yoongi’s limbs. Was this a competition for your love or something? This was not right! You put your hand on Yoongi’s chest and he ripped it from himself, snarling at you. “Do you love him, too? Huh?”

Jimin was piping up to close the conversation. “Yah! We should take this inside, not outside like this! Come on, Yoongs!”

“Shut up, Jimin!”

“I don’t! I told him I don’t love him!” You protested.

“Bullshit! You wouldn’t have let him get all up in your fucking neck if you didn’t!”

“She does love me,” Namjoon lacked friendliness and he panted from the adrenaline. “She does, and you manipulated her. I deserve her, you don’t.”

“Namjoon.. You’re dead.”

“No!” You rasp and you see Yoongi fish out his switch blade that was in his belt loop.

Monsta X didn’t get there in time, seeing as how Yoongi was stalking to Namjoon who was going to welcome whatever he had to harm him with. Jimin ran to separate them, despite Jungkook who had fought to have him rooted to his seat. “No! No knives!”

“Yoongi!” You scream.

Yoongi was bringing it forward to stab. He didn’t see anything else besides killing Namjoon.

Jimin’s shoes stomped on the snow, and he wedged himself between the genius and the leader meticulously.

“Yoongi–!” Jimin hitched his breath as the blade pierced into his gut, brown orbs shining with tears at the profound puncturing sensation it left. It was halfway in, and then driven with force while his figure was squished between the two. He choked on a whine, biting down on his bottom lip. Crimson fell from the base of the handle and Yoongi backed up for effect, Jimin’s body frozen to the spot. He peered down in fear to the protruding knife in him, unable to tell if he was dreaming or not.

Namjoon’s hands came to the smaller male’s ribs, supporting him in his tumbling backwards. You couldn’t hear the anguished, piercing, and frenzied cries of the men around you have to propel Yoongi against the wall of the cabin, the weapon he had being knocked out of his hand. Jooheon had done that, applying pressure to Yoongi’s wind pipe and suppressing him from making any advances.

Wonho hauled Jungkook to not lunge at his leader for what he did; Shownu lugging Hoseok to the caravan to find the aid kits, and Hyungwon was holding his head in despondency, not knowing what to do. Taehyung fled to Jimin and Namjoon, Seokjin’s inspiring sentences circulating the bleeding boy. It was an emergency, seeing as how much blood was spilling onto the snow, the hit must have hit a major organ or in an angle where.. You know..

“Jimin, you can breathe, right? Jimin!”

“Jimin don’t do this. Don’t close your eyes.”

“I know it hurts.. Jimin, don’t cry. Don’t cry. We know it hurts.”

“Hyung,” The athletic boy hissed, and he bucked as it was being pulled on. “Ow!”

“Don’t pull on it! It has to stay inside!”

“Why!? Isn’t it better to take out the damn thing instead of leaving it in?!” Seokjin shrieked. “This is because of you!”

“There’s so much blood- What the fuck-” Jimin breathlessly stared at the puddle spanning out, bringing his hands up to see red on them.

You hyperventilate, ruffling your locks through the mayhem. They were in the mountains, a day or so away from actual people who could help an extremely injured patient.

Will he live?

anonymous asked:

Prompt? Marvel, whatever, based off this: We're good friends and looking to get an apartment together and we found the perfect place. Three bedroom, two baths, includes really nice appliances and the view is great. The problem is that it is a "Couples Only" complex. So now we're pretending to be married which is wrong... but the place is REALLY nice. Oh I forgot to mention one thing... I have feelings for you...

“It’s /exactly/ what I wanted.” Steve beamed, still pacing excitedly around their new apartment. It was three bedrooms (One for him, one for Bucky, and room for a guest) two bathrooms, a gorgeous kitchen with sleek, modern appliances, and a view that made Steve’s pulse flutter every time he looked out his bedroom window. 

Bucky stood back, his arms loosely crossed over his chest as he gave a non-committal noise, even though they’d already signed the lease. “Yeah,” He said absently, “It’s pretty okay.” 

Steve looked at him over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “Okay, Mr. snobbery. I dunno about you but this is the nicest place I’ve ever lived, I dunno where you’re seeing room for improvement.”

“It’s kinda drafty.” It was also a ‘community’ complex with a strict ‘couples only’ policy, which he and Steve were now pretending to abide by. Also, funny side note, Bucky was in love with him….yeah….super fun….and maybe, just maybe, if Bucky pretended not to like the place too much Steve wouldn’t notice the way his eyes brightened and his face warmed every time he made a show of wrapping his arm around his waist and kissing his cheek. 

Steve shrugged, twisting the simple ‘wedding ring’ on his finger. “Wow, we should definitely back out of our lease then.” He deadpanned, Bucky’s heart fluttering at the sight of the ring on his finger. Steve walked past him to the kitchen. “I mean, drafty- what was I thinking bringing you into this unlivable cesspool?”

Bucky chuckled. “Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so dramatic, I’m just saying-” 

What Bucky was just saying went unsaid as Steve heard a knock on the door. His eyes widened as he looked back to Bucky. “Quick- Look husbandly-”

Bucky barely had time to try to silently convey, through a scrunched expression and helpless hand gesture, that he had no idea what ‘husbandly’ was supposed to look like before Steve opened the door. He quickly put his arm around Steve’s tiny waist, smiling. 

“Hi!” The woman on the doorstep- Monica, their landlady- smiling brightly. “Getting settled in?”

Steve rested his head against Bucky’s ribs, smiling. “Yes, thank you so much, we’re really excited to be here.” Bucky tried to reign in his rapidly beating heart. 

“We’re glad to have you.” She smiled. “We’re all here to support each other, and I know you’re just going to love being a part of our community.” Monica extended a flyer. “I just wanted to drop this off. We’re having a meet and greet this evening, we’d love to have you two along.” 

Steve looked up at Bucky- God- so adorable Bucky thought his heart would explode. “A meet and greet, Honey that sounds like fun!” Laying it on a little thick maybe but still too fucking adorable. 

Bucky smiled down at him. “Yeah, I’d love to go, but we’ve gotta see if we can get more unpacking done first.” 

Steve nodded. “Smart man.” And to Bucky’s shock and to the disservice of his already pounding heart, Steve leaned up onto his tip toes and kissed the very corner of Bucky’s lips. 

Bucky didn’t even hear Steve telling Monica they would try to make it, or listen at all to her reply. His heart was trying to break his ribcage. His face and ears were hot, and Bucky knew right then and there that this innocently motivated con was going to kill him. 

Yep. Good bye cruel world. He was in love with Steve Rogers. 

STILL ACCEPTING MARVEL PROMPTS

((Also kinda thinking about extending this on AO3 into a short story, what do you guys think?))

But what am I supposed to do?

Chapter 11: the morning after

Chapter 1 [x]
Previous Chapter [x]
Next Chapter [x]


After years of trying to forget about your fleeting romance, it had come back to hit you twice as hard. Caught between lies and feelings, you’d finally given in to the temptation that was Song Minho. And you weren’t about to lose him all over again.


Originally posted by yoonjeongpuns

*You reach for your phone; 10:50am. You groan as the bright screen illuminates your face. A low hum coming from the TV on the wall. You scramble for the remote, cautious not to disturb the warm body sleeping next to you. You wince as the alcohol starts to wear off and a dull ache starts to radiate from your hips. Minho had definitely not disappointed last night. You smirk to yourself as you head to the bathroom, careful not to trip on the various pieces of clothing scattered across his bedroom floor.*

[MH] Y/N?

*His deep voice catches you by surprise as you slink towards the bathroom; you instantly become very aware of your exposed state. You turn sheepishly to face him; his muscular figure barely covered by the bed sheet.*

[Y/N] Ah, good morning…

*You murmur half-pressed against the wall to cover yourself. You watch as his sleepy brown eyes graze over you and a small smirk twitches at his lips.*

[MH] Good morning indeed.

*His tone makes you chuckle as he stretches his long, toned arms towards you; hands beckoning you. You peel yourself away from the wall, glad that the curtains were still drawn, and wander to the edge of the bed so you’re just out of reach.*

[MH] come here

*Minho growls at you, causing you to move just within his grasp. You feel your heart rate increase as his long fingers dig themselves into your thigh as he pulls you towards him.*

[MH] much better.

*You allow yourself to be drawn into a cuddle; warm skin against warm skin. Minho traces your side with his fingertips as he attempts to make eye contact with you. You avoid it shyly; neither of you were exactly virgins, but it had been your first time with him. You bite your lip as your mind drifts back over the nights events. The drunken argument in an alleyway leading to drunken sex at his place. It had been gentle to start with; exploring each others bodies and soft kisses. But you’d both been waiting for this moment for two years so it quickly became clumsy. An unquenchable need to be close to each other.*

[MH] Y/N?

*Minho soft tone brings you back to the present; a slight blush creeping into your cheeks.*

[MH] What are you thinking about?

[Y/N] Um… last night… you… us…

*The heat in your face grows stronger and you avoid eye contact once more. But Minho simply laughs and pulls you underneath him.*

[MH] well we can always recreate that…


*You stand there, an hour or so later, in Minho’s sleek kitchen. Dressed in nothing but his shirt, you search through his cupboards for some breakfast.*

[Y/N] How much ramen does this guy need?

*You mutter to yourself. A tall silhouette stands in the doorway to the living area, you turn to face him with a shy smirk twitching at the corners of your mouth.*

[MH] How are you feeling?

*Minho purrs as he saunters towards you, now fully dressed. You smirk as you think about his broad, tanned body moving against yours… the marks you’d left against his shoulders.*

[Y/N] Sore…

*You grin up at him; the scent of fresh cologne and clean laundry enveloping you as his frame blocks your view. Minho places a gentle kiss against your already bruised mouth; a tender apology.*

[MH] I’ve been waiting for this for so long…

*Minho’s confession leaves you feeling guilty; after all, it was you that had run away for two years. You’d left so much behind. Friends. Your dream job. Your first love. But that was in the past… You’re snapped back to reality as Minho lifts you onto the counter; the cold surface a contrast against your bare flesh.*

[MH] but we’re here now.

*You smile as he wraps his arm around your lower back; the warm of his forearm leaving tingles on your skin. Minho leans his forehead against yours.*

[Y/N] I really missed you, you know.

*You whisper looking down as his brown eyes burned into yours. Minho pulls away from you; a cold space where his forehead had been.*

[MH] I missed you too…

*Minho murmurs, fondling your hand gently in his.*

Originally posted by ygboys-ot11

[MH] Do you play piano anymore?

[Y/N] Hm? no… I haven’t played since…

[MH] …Since?

[Y/N] Since I left. 

[MH] You always used to look so pretty when you played piano…

*Minho murmurs warmly, cupping your face in his large hands. He kisses you softly and lowers you onto the floor. It was as if the past two years had never happened. You feel bitter; imagine if you’d never left. You both wander over to the sofa hand-in-hand.*

[Y/N] Maybe I could start playing it again?

*You suggest shyly as Minho scoops you into his arms on the sofa. He pulls a blanket over the two of you.*

[MH] Of course you should! You should come by the studio some time…

*You smile to yourself as Minho talks excitedly. You rest your head against his sturdy chest and listen to the soothing thump of his heart as he rambles on about work.*

[MH] I’d love to show you some songs I’ve been working on recently.

*You nod peacefully as your eyes droop heavily.*


[MH] what the fuck?

*You’re awoken suddenly as your head crashes against the cool leather of the sofa. You open your eyes surprised to see Minho stood up talking on the phone. The sweet daydream you’d been having shattered by the rage radiating off of Minho.*

[MH] how the fuck did that happen?

*You sit up on the sofa; an awkward silence fills the air as the person on the other end of the receiver answers Minho’s question. The tension is released as Minho grabs his jacket and heads for the door.*

[MH] I’ll be right there.


~to be continued~

[CREDIT to the gif owners - I do not own these gifs]

anonymous asked:

Could you write a Fitzsimmons framework AU? (Doesn't need to be canon compliant. Thanks!)

A/N: Thanks for the prompt anon! This probably isn’t what you had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway!


“I know you. I swear I bloody know you.” The Doctor muttered angrily, stroking his chin as he stared at Jemma.

She nodded.

It was all she could manage, without the risk of bursting into tears.

He was there. He was alive. But he was different.

Though his physical traits remained familiar, the same face, the same stature, the same voice, his eyes were…empty.

“Damn it.” He sighed after intensely gazing at her for almost a full minute. Throwing his hands into the air, he turned and walked through the door of his large manor. “Madam’s not home. You can come inside. But if you try and pull anything, anything at all, I will not hesitate to put a bullet in your head. Understood?”

“Understood.” She rasped, following him cautiously.

She knew it wasn’t the real Fitz, not her Fitz.

But hearing him threaten her like that hurt.

Keep reading

3

Created By NynaeveDesign

Pacific Heights Kitchen

Created for: The Sims 4
Ample natural light and a splash of pink adds interest to the otherwise monochromatic kitchen, featuring sleek cabinets and a center island.

Set includes:
Kitchen Counter
Counter Island
Kitchen Cabinet
Kitchen Shelf
Fridge
Range (wall and freestand version)
Range Hood
Dishwasher (wall and freestand version)
Kitchen Sink
Bar Stool
Food Print

http://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/1350110

The Explanation

Eleventh installment of the Mr. Thrainson, Mr. Oropherion series. (One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.)

Based on this imagine found over at @imaginexhobbit

Thranduil x Reader

Warnings: Awkwardness. Snarky teenager. Another confession.

Word count: 2,148



What was worse, you couldn’t quite tell yet; that Thranduil had neglected to inform you of a whole human being he had made or that that same human being had invited you in on the grounds that you were both waiting for the same person. He offered you a spot on the cushy couch and a drink; only the former you had accepted.

“So,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you as he settled into a large recliner with a bottle of soda in hand. “How do you know my dad?

“We work together, in a manner of speaking,” you answer.

Keep reading

When BIGBANG has feelings for you *Chapter 14*

chapter 1 [x]
previous chapter [x]
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*You watch Seunghyun’s troubled expression and you feel an intense guilt. You reach forward and stroke his face*

[Y/N] Seunghyun… I’m here… with you

*You put your phone on silent and try to change the subject*

[Y/N] Should we… go make some breakfast?

*Seunghyun smiles at you and kisses you lightly*

[TOP] yeah… I’ll go buy some coffee

*Seunghyun slips on some outdoor clothes and pulls you into an embrace*

[TOP] I’ll be back in a bit

[Y/N] hurry back *you murmur*

*After Seunghyun leaves to go buy coffee, you wander into his sleek kitchen and look through the cupboards*

[Y/N] I guess I could make pancakes…

*You start preparing a pancake mix. About 10 minutes later you hear the apartment door open and close*

[TOP] Y/N? *he calls*

[Y/N] I’m in the kitchen… *you call back*

*You hear Seunghyun’s footsteps getting closer and then he wanders into the kitchen acting cutely*

[TOP] I bought the coffee

*You smile as he hugs you from behind… you always forget how tall he is. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he kisses your neck gently*

[Y/N] I don’t know why you bought coffee… You have some in the cupboard-

[TOP] oh… I wanted to buy you these…

*You turn around to see Seunghyun with some pretty flowers in his hand. You feel a smile growing on your face, you blush and your heart flutters*

[Y/N] yah! stop being so cute! *you push him gently*

*Seunghyun grins and puts the flowers in a vase*

[TOP] what are you making?

[Y/N] Pancakes… is that okay?

[TOP] of course

[Y/N] they’ll be ready in a few minutes… go sit down… i’ll bring them in

*Seunghyun walks away cutely and you grin as you turn back to cook… although you couldn’t ignore the heaviness in your heart… you check your phone… another text - [Where are you? Call me. ~Ji]*

*You finish cooking and plate up the pancakes. You walk into the living room and see Seunghyun on the sofa*

[Y/N] Seunghyunie *you call*

*He looks up at you with anticipation… you hand him a plate and sit down next to him. After you finish eating, Seunghyun takes the plates to the kitchen. He returns and drapes himself over the arm of the sofa with a smirk*

[TOP] that was almost as delicious as you…

*You spend the rest of the afternoon watching movies and cuddling on the sofa… you suddenly look out of the window*

[Y/N] oh… it’s starting to get dark… I should probably head home…

[TOP] do you have to go?

[Y/N] yeah… I have work tomorrow… plus I need to shower and change my clothes…

[TOP] …you could wear my clothes *pout*

[Y/N] *giggle* no Seunghyun… I don’t think I can

*After a short debate with Seunghyun about the fact that you need to go home… you gather up your stuff and head for the front door*

[TOP] do you want me to drive you home?

[Y/N] no… I could use the walk to be honest…

*Seunghyun leans in and kisses you goodbye*

*You walk home in the dim light and try to comprehend what has happened in the last 24 hours… You feel guilty… You’d never wanted to hurt Jiyong… You’d never meant to let things go so far with Seunghyun. You’d been angry and felt neglected… Your mind was a mess and your heart was confused.*

*It starts to rain heavily and you let yourself get wet. You walk the streets to your apartment but you stop before you get to the front door… a figure is sat in the doorway*

[Y/N] Jiyong?

*he lifts his head up and looks at you*

[GD] where the fuck have you been?

*stay tuned for the next chapter!*

[CREDIT to the gif owners - I do not own these gifs]