this killed me with giggles so i capped it for sharing

anonymous asked:

I'd LOVE if you could write a drunk Simon confessing his feelings to Jace when he drives him home! Especially if it's super fluffy!

yeeeeeeee i love Drunk Shenanigans!!! 

“So this is what you do when I don’t go out with you?” Jace asks, huffing warm air over his fingers. It’s freezing, and he forgot his gloves, because he rushed over here to pick up one Simon Lewis from trying to get back to the apartment they share while drunk as hell. 

“Don’t get mad at me, I made good choices, did good things!” Simon says, pouting prettily as he tilts his head back and looks up at Jace. He’s slumped against Maia and Clary, who are quietly giggling to themselves. 

“He did - ‘good things’ is the cute blonde back in there!” Maia sniggers, and Jace feels his heart break a little more. He scowls, trying to get over the tiny pang in his chest. He’s long since accepted that Simon doesn’t feel the same way as he does, but it still fucking sucks because the guy he likes is the guy he lives with, and the guy who’s made it his mission to insert himself into every part of Jace’s life. 

“I didn’t do him.” Simon insists. “I was gonna, but he’s verrrrrrrrrrrry.”

“Very what?” Clary asks, leaning forward. Jace sighs and pushes her back as she begins to topple off the bench. 

“Very.” Simon agrees, and Jace raises an eyebrow. He’s about to press for more information, when Magnus appears. 

“Oh, finally.” He groans. “Take Simon home, I’ll deal with the girls.” 

“What did you guys drink?” Jace asks, exasperated as Maia nearly punches him in the face in her haste to cling to Clary. 

“We had a competition, and I severely underestimated their tolerance.” Magnus sighs, massaging his temples. “Come along, darlings.” Maia and Clary stumble off with Magnus, and Jace tugs Simon upright. 

“You good, man?” He asks quietly. Simon hums quietly and leans into Jace’s side. 

“Not gonna be sick or anything.” He confirms, and Jace laughs softly, slinging an arm around Simon’s shoulder and steering him to the car. 

“I’ve drunk enough with you to know what you’re like.” Jace muses. “And I am so glad you’re not the kind to throw up. I would not let you within ten feet of my car if you were.” 

“What kind of drunk am I?” Simon asks brightly, then promptly slips on the sidewalk and crumples, holding on to Jace’s arms for dear life. Jace sighs and hauls him back up, and suddenly Simon is very close, close enough to count each eyelash fluttering over warm brown eyes. 

“Clumsy.” Jace says hoarsely, transfixed by the hazy desire clouding Simon’s eyes, before he remembers that Simon is fucking drunk, and he sighs and steps away. “Come on, Lewis.” 

He manages to get Simon into the car with minimal fuss. Simon does try to convince Jace that North Dakota doesn’t exist, but it’s not even the biggest conspiracy theory Simon’s brought up, so Jace isn’t worried as he starts up the car and peers behind him, backing slowly out of the parking space. 

“Oh my god you’re driving.” Simon says suddenly. Jace snorts as he waits patiently for a gaggle of teens to cross the street. “Since when do you drive?” 

“Since a month ago, you went with me to get my license.” Jace mutters. “You’re such a dumbass when you’re drunk.” 

“Let me out, Jace is gonna kill me with his driving!” Simon moans, sinking low into his seat. 


“I’m gonna dieeeeee.” Simon warbles, and then pauses. “Do you have any water? Or can we stop by the ocean to get a drink?” 

“Yeah, I don’t think the Atantic is what you need right now.” Jace says, reaching behind with one hand and grabbing the water he’d thrown in the back seat when he’d heard Simon was drunk. 

Lifesaver.” Simon says gratefully as he takes the bottle and twists the cap off, guzzling it down. He only gets one tiny dribble of water down his chin, and Jace glances over as the car idles at a red light on an empty street. 

“You’ve got a - “ He gestures, and Simon frowns. 

“A printer?” He asks, excited. Jace shakes his head, bemused. 

“Why the fuck would there be a printer?” He asks, glancing once to check that it’s still a red light before he reaches over and swipes his thumb over the drop of water, Simon’s stubble rough under his skin. “There.” 

The light changes to green and he drops his hand back to the wheel, focusing on driving - Simon’s partially right, Jace isn’t the best driver - and there’s silence in the car until he looks back to Simon, worried about the lack of unstoppable rambling. 

Simon is looking at him with a strange, unreadable look on his face, his eyes dark and stormy. Jace frowns and opens his mouth, about to ask what’s wrong, when Simon blurts out, “Do you know Jace Wayland?” 

“Oh my God.” Jace says, shaking his head. “Not this again.” Simon has a habit of conflating Jace and Captain America while he’s drunk, which is cute, but so not helpful. 

“If you see him,” Simon continues, his voice turning a little sad, “can you tell him to kiss me?” 

“What?” Jace asks, not at all proud of the way his voice goes an octave higher. 

“I mean, you’re Captain America. He has to listen to you, right?” Simon asks as Jace tries desperately to focus on pulling into their building’s garage. 

“Buddy,” Jace gets out in a strangled voice, “I think Jace Wayland doesn’t need me to tell him to kiss you.” 

“Did he say something? Does he not want to?” Simon asks, insistently patting Jace’s arm. 

“No.” Jace says shortly, killing the engine and opening the door. 

“Then you should command him. Jace would listen to you, you have muscles!” 

“Oh my God.” Jace groans as he gets Simon out of the car. He staggers a little as Simon leans in with all his weight. “Why is drunk you so horny?” 

“I’m not horny, I love him!” Simon declares. Jace promptly drops Simon. “Ow.” Simon complains from the floor. 

“Lewis. Always complicating things.” Jace says, his heart beating faster and a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. 

“I’m serious, he’s adorable and he cares so much and he’s so good to the world.” Simon says as Jace hauls him off the ground. “Please get him to kiss me.” Jace’s heart clenches and he smiles giddily at Simon. 

“Wake up sober, and I will.” He promises, and Simon nods sleepily, nuzzling into Jace’s neck. 

(The next morning, Jace waits as long as it takes for Simon to stumble into the kitchen and blearily make himself a cup of coffee before he backs the other man into the counter, gets a hand in his shirt, and kisses him as thoroughly as he can. Simon whimpers, his hands flailing for a bit and hitting Jace’s head before settling around Jace’s back, and then he gets with the program, pressing back and sliding his tongue across Jace’s. 

“Got a message from Captain America.” Jace murmurs when they break apart to breathe, his voice low and amused as he watches the bright red flush overtake Simon’s cheeks. 

“Oh God.” Simon groans. “Of all the idiotic things I’ve done - “

“I love you too.” 

“ - that was probably not the worst.” Simon concludes, his smile turning blindingly bright. Jace laughs warmly at that and reels Simon in for another kiss, unable to help himself. The guy he’s in love with is nerdy as fuck, but it’s the sweetest thing in the world, and Jace will send the creator of Captain America a fruit basket if it makes Simon happy.)

x files fic: under the stars (minimal fate required)

or: ways mulder and scully could’ve been happy

for @leiascully‘s challenge: list sort of


The X-Files are never shut down and Scully is never abducted.

They fall into a comfortable rhythm of partnership: an incredible solve rate, an easy repertoire. (He never convinces her to believe in aliens, and she never convinces him not to.) They start spending time together outside of work - getting drinks, watching movies over long-abandoned paperwork. It’s at least two and a half years before Mulder realizes that she is his best friend. (Even over the Gunmen, he thinks about telling her, but how would that go down? They don’t say things like that to each other. She’s only ever called him Fox once, and he’s called her Dana a total of six times before she asked him to stop; what kind of friends are they?)

Keep reading

Baseball Game Jealousy- Andre Burakovsky

Originally posted by thornescratch

Ok I’m not going to lie, this is one of my favorite Andre ones that I’ve written so far! Like I’m SO stoked for you guys to read it! I hope you enjoy it as much as I liked writing it!

Warning: cussing, jealous Andre

Anon Request (I’m merging two of them to fit both): omg I’m so in love with all your imagines lol if it’s not a bother could ya do another burkie one? Doesn’t really matter what of to me just a burkie one Hahah

And: One where reader is a big baseball fan and they go to a game and meet her fave player and Andre gets jealous.


              You wiggled in your seat unable to sit still. You were so excited!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Phanprompt where Dan gains a lot of weight maybe from meds or hypothyroidism and Phil comforts him?

Genre: smut, fluff, angst???(if you squint)

Word count: 900ish.

Warnings: dysphoria, body worship, comforting!phil, insecure!dan, handjobs, rimming,,,,,,


Looking at himself in the mirror, dan let out a sigh. He was sick of looking fat, just because he wanted to be healthy. It was only three months ago that phil had convinced dan to go to the doctor to get some sort of medication for his recurring migraines. They worked, but now dan had gained almost 10 pounds and he was panicking, I mean how much weight could he gain before phil stopped finding him attractive and he left him?

As dan poked and prodded at his tummy and thighs, phil walked into their bedroom looking for his laptop charger, and overheard dan’s grumbles. Curiously, he walked over to the bathroom door, and looked through the thin crack of an opening, to see dan looking sadly down at his tummy. Phil scrunched up his nose, he had thought the little bit of fat on dan had been quite appealing, especially his thighs that now jiggles when he rode phil, but what if dan hadn’t felt the same?

“Dan?” Phil watched Dan flinch before dropping his shirt and spinning to face Phil, blushing and nervously twisting his fingers.

“Oh, uh hey, didn’t see you…um how long have you been standing there?” He whispered the last part but phil heard it anyways, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around dan waist.

“Long enough. You know I think it’s sexy.” Dan scoffs as if to say, ‘yeah right’, but Phil is having none of it. He grabs onto Dan hip roughly and pushes him into the bathroom counter before picking him up and sitting him on it. Pushing between his thighs, phil grabs ahold of both in each hand, “You’re fucking thighs, Jesus they kill me, make me so flustered when you ride me, the way they bounce, fuck, Dan, you don’t even realize do you?”

Dan’s blushing a red hot and Phil is nuzzling his neck, “Not to mention your tummy, so cute when I fuck you, love your little rolls and love tickling you, giving you kisses.” His hands grip the hem of Dan shirt, tugging lightly in a form of asking for permission to take it off and dan nods quickly, whimpering. He steps back and dan whines but phil just pushes off his own shirt, stepping forward again to press their now bare chests against each other hotly, his hands roaming to dan lower back, “Your hips and little love handles are so adorable, Dan, make me want to touch you all the time, love marking them up and knowing I’m the only one who can see them, shit.” His hands flutter to the button on dan’s jeans, looking to himself permission before popping it open and unzipping them, pulling them off with his briefs.

“Love your arms too, Christ, when I cuff you to the bed frame, they look so good, fuck, pulling at the restraints trying to touch me like it’s all you can think about, gets me so fucking hot.”

Dan finally breaks, moaning wantonly, “C’mon phil, please, bedroom now.” His fingers threaded in Phil soft hair, gripping tightly and thighs hooked around his hips securely.

“Yeah baby, I got you. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. You want me to make you feel good?” Feverishly, dan nods, a whine ripping from his throat.

Phil pushes Dan back onto their shared bed, discarding his own pants and boxers, before joining him. Reaching into the bedside table drawer, he pulls out a bottle of lube, popping open the cap and squirting some onto his hand before loosely taking hold of his own member and dan’s in one hand and pumping them together. Dan’s whimpers become high pitched moans and he arches into phil’s tight fist, “So good, Phil, g-gonna cum. P-please, can I c-cum?” Phil shakes his head, pulling from his own hold to lower himself to Dan’s thighs. He bites into dan, licking over the mark before licking and sucking a trial to dan’s entrance.

“Not yet. Hold it for me.” Dan nods, but seems reluctant as Phil’s tongue meets his throbbing hole, lapping wetly at him before prodding gently with the muscle.

“Can’t, can’t hold it anymore please.” Phil pulls back to grab his pulsating cock with dan’s again in his fist, quickly tugging them both, kissing at dan’s neck and groaning out his release as dan convulses under him, their cum collecting on his hand stickily as he works them down.

Rolling off of dan and out of bed, phil grabs a warm washcloth and comes back to find dan with tears rolling down his cheeks, he comes over quickly, “Hey, baby, you ok? What’s up?” Dan curls into his arms, “Just love you, fuck these meds are screwing with my emotions too, I’m sorry, I’m just, thank you, Phil.” Scrunching his eyebrows, phil kisses Dan’s forehead.

“What for?”

“Doing this. Taking care of me, affirming me, making me feel sexy.”

Phil laughs, “Dan! You are sexy, you don’t need me for that. I just couldn’t help myself.” Giggling Dan nuzzles Phil nose with him own, kissing him sweetly before taking the clothe and cleaning them off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Phil scoops dan into his chest, and dan pushes his face into Phil neck, before they both doze off, not ready to ever leave this feeling.


Sorry this took so long! Hope it’s what you wanted though.


How Whiskey Feels (Tony x reader)

A/N: Incase you are wondering I really love Whiskey and science so I actually had to remind myself to dial it back during editing.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, jealousy, pining

Tony watched as you practically danced into Steve’s arms upon entering the tower. Steve’s face shined back with the same intensity of hers as he hugged her tightly. This made him think back to that first night he saw you. It was one of his parties. You were a new scientist Bruce had chosen and he had only seen your photo. The way you looked in person with that dress was infinitely better. He wanted your attention desperately, but decided to let you approach him. He thought his wish was coming true when you began to cross the large room. Then the catastrophic happened. You tripped and tumbled right into Steve’s arms. Tony watched in horror as you two laughed and his hands lingered on your hips when he righted you. Tony knew in that moment he had made a mistake. Something he would continue to do as he went for another whiskey instead of walking over to introduce himself. He couldn’t have known in that moment just how much he would grow to care for you, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach he might have a crush already. That was only based on your CV let alone when he finally talked to you the next day.

You were definitely clumsy even out of heels as you knocked over a beaker immediately when you went to bring your hand up to introduce yourself. He tried his usual snarky flirting and you laughed so hard you snorted. You didn’t even think he was serious and you had heard he did this to everyone, so you were merely flattered and amused. You worked closely with Banner meaning Tony made it a point to hang out with his friend even more. It wasn’t long before he was completely charmed by the way your face scrunched as you thought through an experiment or how you gently touched his arm or chest when you laughed hard from his snarky comments. Of course his flirting began to earn him eye rolls along with the small snorts as you two adjusted to working together. He would have assumed you were into him if it wasn’t for the way you touched Cap. After work Steve would rescue you from working too late. Tony walked in a few times on the two of you laying on the couch sharing a blanket while watching a movie or doing something stupidly cute like dabbing Steve with cupcake frosting while baking. What killed Tony most was the way when Steve made you laugh hard your whole body fell against him. Steve would laugh just as hard holding you up. He tried to avoid you two together, but it was difficult when he always wanted to be around you. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he was frowning right at you in this moment. Steve was cooking and you were pretending to help while stealing bites. You noticed though and came over to the side of the room he was sitting. You gently nudged him with your shoulder as you sat next to him.

“What’s wrong, Tony?” You gave him a small smile. His brown eyes snapped out of their haze as they met yours. There was a burning or more accurately a yearning there in his eyes, but he only returned the same small smile.

“Nothing, Y/N. Just not the best whiskey. You know you pay so much for the stuff and when it’s not quite as good…” He trailed off as she grabbed the drink from him. She took a small sip and a smile played across her lips.

“I don’t drink a lot, but it seems alright to me.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the shyness in her voice. His eyes betrayed him too as they trailed down to her lips still lingering near the glass.

“What do you taste?”

“Oh I don’t rate whiskey on taste. I rate it on how the burn feels as it travels down my throat. It should be fiery yet smooth. You should feel excited not scorched. That’s why all the best writers love whiskey. It’s like liquid passion.” You mused swirling the liquid by gently shaking the glass. He wanted to be pulled in by your words, but he could feel Steve looking over to them from the island. You handed the whiskey back to him and your fingers brushed each other. Blush crept on your face and he started to feel jealous of Steve.

“What’s your boyfriend cooking?” He said a little more spiteful then he meant. You only returned a confused look.

“You think I’m dating Steve?”

“You’re not?” He returned your confused look.

“I-“ You stammered. Your brow furrowed and you looked down like when a substrate reaction was taking longer than expected. “We are just friends.” You said evenly and stood up. You walked over to Steve and excused yourself. Tony sat there dumbfounded on the brink of making another colossal mistake if he didn’t act soon. Thankfully Steve noticed this time.

“Did you say something to Y/N?” Steve asked as he approached. It was rather accusatory.

“I just asked if you two were dating.” Tony threw his hands up in defense still puzzled by what your response meant.

“What would make you think that?” Steve searched Tony’s face and then let out a sigh when Tony said nothing. “We are just friends, Tony. She likes someone else. Someone she works with.” The words hung in the air. Without knowing what he would do he began to walk briskly after you. The elevator was almost down to the first floor meaning you were leaving the tower. He turned around for the roof door instead and called a suit. Quickly flying down to the ground he cut you off just as you were exiting the tower.

“Tony!” You jumped back several steps in surprise. He stepped from the suit and to you quickly. You studied how close he stood to you and the way his muscles tensed under his shirt before looking up into his deep and pleading eyes.

“Please tell me you don’t like Banner.”

“What!” You scoffed, but before you could protest further he slammed you to his chest and his lips eagerly pulled at yours. Your hands landed against his tight chest feeling the edge of the arc reactor in your hand. You mindlessly traced it and worked down his chest as you melted into the kiss. Tony felt smooth fire burn in him at every touch of you as you lost yourselves in the middle on the sidewalk. Months of wanting you and being an idiot all added up to this moment. Breathlessly you pulled away and leaned against his shoulder while you tried to even out your heart beat. “You feel like whiskey.” You whispered softly into his neck. That was all he needed to hear as he swung you into his arms. You giggled as he carried you back into the building.

thealextheshipper  asked:

Prompt: post civil war Tony and Rhodey attempting to get custody of a child. The CPS person they're talking to is a Cap fan.

It’s uh. not what you asked for, but this is what came out. but hey, kid!fic

also Civil War has been? somewhat resolved? really idk I just,,,can’t with civil war anymore. 

Riri laughed at something Rhodey had said, Tony couldn’t help but lean down and brush a kiss on her forehead. 

After two years of paperwork and vetting, six months after the so-called ‘Civil War’ took place where they had to decide if Rhodey would recover enough, a year of meetings and day trips and staying for a night or two at a time, they finally had their baby girl. Their seven year old was finally home. 

Well, close enough. They were currently sitting in an IHOP near the Tower, because Rhodey had insisted they did something to celebrate Riri moving in, and a helicopter ride was too obnoxious, apparently. If Tony was being honest with himself, which he wasn’t, Rhodey had a point. Tony still held the belief that Riri deserved the best. 

Tony met Rhodey’s eye from across the table to find his husband smiling gently at him, looking as in awe of their daughter as Tony was. Tony grinned back. 

“Well, Ms Riri, I suppose we’ll have to introduce you to your cousin Lila soon,” Rhodey said. “And you can meet Peter, who is going to be your babysitter.” 

“Stop pawning off my intern as our babysitter, that’s not what I’m paying him for.” 

“It’s what I’m paying him for.” Grinning cheekily, Rhodey winked at Riri who giggled again. 

“We share a bank account, why am I paying him twice?” Tony fake-groaned. 

“Oh, I don’t pay him in money. I pay him in secrets. He’s especially interested in the old MIT days.” 

Tony gasped over-dramatically, seeing the little girl try to hide her laughter, and played it up. “Betrayal! What happened to ‘What happens in Boston, stays in Boston?’” 

“I’m not ashamed of anything that happened during MIT. It was the years after that scare me.” 

They continued along that vein for a little while longer, and Tony basked in the sound of his family’s happiness. Distracted as he was, he failed to notice the stare of the heavyset man sat a few tables away, standing up at the same time as Tony excused himself to go to the toilet.

As he stood, washing his hands, he groaned in annoyance as he saw someone approached him in the mirror. 

“If you wanted an autograph, you’re out of luck my friend.” 

“As if, Stark.” Ah, one of those. Joy. 

“Look, can this wait? I’m kind of busy right now-” 

“What right do you have to be happy, Stark? After all you’ve done?” Tony sighed, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. “After all the people you killed-” 

“I’m going to stop you right there, buddy. I’ve heard this spiel before, not interested in a repeat performance.” 

“You betrayed America!” 

Even better, it was a so-called Steve Supporter, the only people that ever brought up Tony apparently betraying the states. So-called, because they never seemed to actually support Rogers and his beliefs. Despite their differences, Steve was actually the staunchest supporter of Tony and Rhodey’s desperation for a child - he’d almost been as gutted as they were when IVF was ruled out because of Extremis. 

“I was, funnily enough on the side of the law, so technically, I did not betray America.” 

“Because of you, we don’t even have a Cap anymore,” the man’s lip curled up, and Tony was out. Sam was definitely Cap, no matter what douchebags said. 

Rolling his eyes, he shoved past the man. “Rogers made his own decision to retire, buddy. That’s not on me.” 

Exiting the bathroom, he made eye contact with Rhodey who looked concernedly at him. Tony simply shook his head, sliding back into his seat, and smiling at Riri. 

“Right then, what are we gonna do today, then?” 

tired [frank castle]

first time writing for my dear murder husband don’t kill me!!!!

this is a load of fluff and cheese and im nOT sOrRY

Originally posted by calif0rnia-lovers

Keeping yourself awake waiting for Frank was getting easier once you got used to the bitterness of black coffee. You didn’t understand how the man could drink such excessive amounts of it, nevertheless it kept you awake and it was worth it. Every night was a struggle to get through considering that you knew that any day could be the day that he does not walk through that door. You were used to seeing him bloody and messed up by now, it was routine. He comes back, apologizing for taking so long, you stitch him up and you go to sleep peaceful and safe in his arms.

You stared at the TV in front of you not really paying attention to what was on it. It was around 2AM when Frank finally stumbled in through the front door of your shared apartment. A cap covered his face, it was too dark for you to see him, but he saw you as your eyes lazily blinked, indicating that you really needed to get some sleep. He didn’t deserve this. At least so he thought. Frank never thought he was worth the struggle you went through to be with him and he didn’t understand why you stayed. He exhausts you, but at the same time you will never understand how grateful he is to have you in his life. You were persistent and said you would never leave. And you never did.

Tired eyes shifting from the TV, you felt a lazy smile tug at your lips as you man was finally home. You stood up and walked over to him. The cap covering his face you knew to be intentional. He never wore it unless he wanted to hide his newly acquired injuries from you. You worried about him. A lot. And he hated stressing you out, but you knew that this is who he is. Cleaning up the streets was something he made his job and you couldn’t deny that it wasn’t a good deed.

When you finally made your way over to Frank your hands instinctively went to his neck, slowly trailing up to remove the cap. Another cut on his cheekbone, right above the one which had almost healed. This one was more serious though, definitely requiring stitched.

You felt a sigh escape your lips as your thumb traced the rugged skin of his face. You heard him mumble a barely audible ‘sorry’, but he didn’t need to apologize to you and you never understood why he did it. Just nodding your head slightly you walked back into your kitchen, looking for the first aid kit, which unfortunately rested on top of the cupboards that you couldn’t reach. Frank walking behind you chuckled at the sight. He walked over to you and handed you the kit.

“What would you do without me?” He laughed lightly, walking over to a chair and sitting down. You fixed him up so many times, you didn’t need to give instructions anymore.

“I think the real question is what would you do without me.” You smirked, walking over to him. Throwing the kit on a counter, you got out everything you needed and walked over to your man. You rested your legs on each side of him and sat down on his lap, straddling him.

You started cleaning the wound before you could stitch it up, his eyes never leaving your face. Something about the concentration in your eyes when you helped him drove him mad. Eyebrows knitting together, biting your lower lip, the sight was so beautiful to him. You could feel his stare, but you had more important things to pay attention to. You would be lying if you said that his eyes trailing your face didn’t make your knees weak. He admired you and you knew it, but the raw emotions that he showed made your relationship so much more real.

Once you started to stitch his wound, his hands shot up to your bare legs. He could handle pain and his face didn’t budge, but of course it hurt. His calloused and rough hands felt so wrong against the soft skin of your legs. You were wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and a shirt of his that looked way too big on you. And yet again it felt so wrong to him, but it was so right for you. Frank’s hands trailed up to rest on your thighs, his thumbs massaging circles on your skin.

“Why do you put up with this, Y/N?” His question caught you a little off guard. Your hands stopped moving and you moved your eyes to meet his.

“Because I want to.” You stated.

“You deserve so much better, someone who could make you happy.”

“You, Frank, you make me happy.”

“Every single person in this city shakes in fear when they hear my name. How is this happiness to you?”

“Frank, we’ve had this conversation so many times.” You breathed out, leaning back so you could get a complete look at his face. Eyebrows knitted together, eyes filled with so much emotion, you knew that he was serious about this. “They don’t know you like I do. To Hell’s Kitchen you’re The Big Bad Punisher, but to me you’re just Frank. They talk about you like a psychotic murderer and I feel like the articles make you doubt yourself. And I’m here, every night you come back home to remind you that you are a person like all of them too. I know you will never hurt me, there’s nothing for me to be afraid of.” You went on and leaned back in to finish stitching up his cut.

He didn’t have anything to say back to you. Frank was used to you always knowing what to say, but your words always had the same effect on him. His arms trailed up to your hips and pushed you up, closer to him. You giggled at his actions, the sound music to his ears, making him smile too.

Once you were done, you leaned back, examining your work.

“There you go. Good as new.” You spoke, smiling warmly at him.

A low chuckle escaped Frank’s throat as he looked at you with loving eyes. His hands moving up to cup the sides of your face, you leaning into his touch. Your eyes struggling to keep open.

“Don’t know what I did to deserve you, doll.” You just smiled at him and wrapped your hands around his toned torso and leaned in to hug him, his arms around your neck as he held you close. Resting his chin on the top of your head he stroked your hair lightly, relaxing you, sending you to sleep almost instantly.

Frank heard soft snores escape your lips and smiled to himself. He stood up slowly, carrying you to the bed, moving as swiftly as possible not to wake you. He knew you deserved rest with everything that he puts you through.

There was a point where Frank thought that he will never have anything nice ever again, but seeing you in his bed, in his clothes, in his arms, it drove him crazy. But most importantly, he finally felt happy.


what am  doing w my life idk man you tell me why am i always most attached to murderers idk idk does anyone know tho

Show and Tell

PAIRING: reader x Steve Rogers 



Request from Anon- Hey love :) I hope I can give you an idea for an imagine cause of my bday. You and Steve are a couple and all the other Avengers ship you a lot. Then on time at another one of Tony’s party the guys tease Steve a bit that he barely has sexual experience and he gets all flustered. Then you take him back to your shared apartment to get him in safety. You cuddle on the couch but then things start to get heated and Steve isn’t that shy boy anymore? I don’t know, something like that maybe if you want.

Some Steve smut for you all again! Also sorry for the wait for this for the Anon who requested this, hopefully the makes up for the wait :) Enjoy! 


Originally posted by tsfrce

Tony Stark’s annual party was one if not the social event to the year. People from around the world would kill to be a part of the glitz and glamor. The expensive booze, world leaders mingling with superheros. It was the event to be a part of, but to you it wasn’t the actual even that you looked forward to. It was the after party; just the avengers sitting together after all of the guests had gone home. It was were you could all relax in each others company and not have to worry about the stresses of saving the world or fighting evil villains. It also gave you time to actually see your boyfriend for the first time during the evening. Dating Steve Rogers meant that a lot of people wanted to talk to him during the night, be it politicians, army veterans or the general public. Everyone wanted to say that they had met Captain America. 

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Brotherhood - Request

Requested by anon:  please Could you do a Marvel imagine where the reader is Pietro and Wanda’s little sister and she’s having a really bad day. Everything’s going wrong, she didn’t do well in training, she keeps breaking stuff etc, and they look after her?

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Sister!Reader x  Wanda Maximoff (No incest)

Word count: 1.854

Warnings: Not sure how to describe it but reader is sad af.

A/N: I’m a terrible older sister when it comes to emotional stuff so I hope I did it right on this one. Also, first time writing those two (and the Avengers in general) so PLEASE be kind.


Originally posted by ranrightintomyheart

Life is hard for everyone. Life is a bitch to us all. Life is only for the bold and the brave. Life discriminates the small and the weak. Life is full of errors. Life is flawed.

Ever since the beginning, she had been suffering life. Only her two older brothers kept her sane, kept her feet on the ground and made her feel loved, but even so, she always felt rejected because they were twins and twins have a special connection that no other type of brother shares.

Eventually, this connection became more evident, after the three kids were submitted to a series of experiments and she almost died. Her twin brothers, however, survived without a problem, and their powers were magnificent. True, she had some too, but she wasn’t as strong as the twins and therefore she was always ignored, overshadowed by the two.

She loved them, nonetheless. They were kind, loyal, and loving; the only family she had left, and her protectors. They always found a way to put a smile on her face and, consequently, take the smile off the face of whoever had made their little sister upset.

Several events had happened, and said events had taken them to the one and only Avenger’s tower, the Head Quarters, or whatever the hell people called it. She did not care for the name, it was just a pretty building that served as a home for her and the twins, and that was as much information as she needed.

Every member of the Avengers was meant to train daily, and they all did – except for Tony and Bruce, because they always found a way not to do it. Every day, at first time in the morning, they would train as hard as possible.

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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 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?”


“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.”


“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.”


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.



“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.”


“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.


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.


“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.”


“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.


Flipping a page, Namjoon continued down the list.


“Disbanded too.”


“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!”


“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.”


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 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?”


“Let me see.”

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

“Let me see!”


“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!”


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.”


“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?”


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.”



“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?”


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.


“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.


“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’ 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?

On Tour: TMH- Chapter 21

Premise: You’re a youtuber joining the boys for their North American leg of the Take Me Home tour. Your job is to film as much of the tour antics with the boys, and it’s a huge adventure where anything can happen.
*disclaimer- not completely following actual events that happened in the actual TMH tour*

Word Count: 2302

A/M: I hope you guys like it, tell me if you do Xx

Last Chapter | Ask

—Day 21- 11:30 PM—

You leaned against the counter next to the now empty take away food containers, watching as everyone else stayed focused watching the horror movie on TV. 

You left the rim of a cup to your lip as you watched everyone react to the scare on the screen. The scare causing you to jump back slightly, as you chuckled along with everyone else afterwards. 

“Are you scared?” You heard in a hushed voice behind your ear. 

You jumped and turned to look who it was, punching him somewhat playfully at his chest. 

“Louis! What the hell?” You said angrily. 

You heard a chuckle as you saw Zayn walk over to where you were, taking a cup from the counter and filling it with water. “I guess [Y/N]’s scared." 

"Shut up Zayn. I saw you jump at that last jump scare too.” You said. 

He just smirked and you raised an eyebrow. “Whatever [Y/N]. When you want to come over, you can have a spot next to me in front of the screen.” He smiled before turning back to the TV, Louis following him flashing you back a smirk. 

You just stuck your tongue out to the both of them. 

You went back to watching the movie, and even with Louis and Zayn’s teasing no one seemed distracted. Their focus remained on the screen as the main characters discovered the curse that was on the land they were on. 

Your focus shifted however, as you saw someone else get up, and based off the one lamp as your light source behind you, you could tell it was Harry. 

He walked over to you, a smirk on his face causing you to raise an eyebrow. You watched as he took the space next to you, leaning against the counter similar to how you stood. 

“What are you doing over here Styles?” You teased. 

He raised an eyebrow and breathed a chuckle, “What happened to just Harry?" 

You laughed, "I don’t know. I just felt like saying it. Leaning against here watching everyone else have fun makes me feel cool. Like Danny Zuko cool.” You said which made him laugh. 

“We’re you watching Grease with Louis earlier?" 

You shook your head, but your eyes wide with excitement, "Nope. But now it’s on my list!" 

He chuckled, "Why aren’t you sitting with everyone else? Are you scared?” He asked more genuinely and unmockingly. 

You felt yourself smile, “Maybe just a little.” You heard yourself admit, blushing with a bit with embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to be. We can go out if you want." 

Your eyes widened, "Huh?" 

He breathed a chuckle, "We can go have a walk while these guys watch the movie. Just cause everyone else is watching doesn’t mean you have to." 

You smiled at his consideration, and nodded at his suggestion, "But don’t you want to watch too?" 

He shrugged his shoulders, "I doubt I’m going to miss much. It’s not my kind of movie, and it’s full of cliches anyway.” And he walked off the bus, you following closely behind. 

Keep reading

Midnight (Nalu ff, 1/1)

summary: Lucy and Natsu are co-workers and best friends at the coffee shop Fairy Tail.

rated f for fluff! 
words: 1400
no ff link included due to tumblr being rude, but it is posted on there!

a/n: Based off this fanart by @totobeary. Their art is beautiful and I 100% recommend checking it out! 

Her boss must have been insane to leave him with Lucy for final hours of the day, but one look from manager Mirajane had killed any complaints before she could voice them. So, here she was, trying to pretend she wasn’t bored out of her mind, knowing that the slightest sign of weakness would lead Natsu Dragneel into suggesting something crazy and she, gullible and irrevocably in love with him, would most likely agree to it.

She toyed with one of the empty cups, spinning it between her fingers aand her eyes darted to the clock. 11:50. Fairy Tail - the prided coffee shop of Magnolia - closed at midnight except for on special occasions.

Most days were a special occasion, even if the reason was for something trivial; basically, Fairy Tail was always ready party, but thankfully not tonight. She groaned, knowing that she had the closing shift again tomorrow and it was one of their late days.


Lucy froze.


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You sat in the hallway outside of your new apartment waiting for the neighbor you were yet to meet to return home. You were hoping it was a guy who was willing to kill or at least get rid of the giant tarantula sitting on your kitchen bench. How it got there- you didn’t know, all you did know was that because of it you’d drop a box of your favorite plates and was now sitting outside on the cold wooden floor of your brand new apartment unable to settle in.

You glanced at your watch. It’d been about two and a half hours since you first spotted it and you were starting to wonder if your neighbor was even coming home. You thought about going downstairs for help but you figured she was about as useful as you when it came to giant spiders as the memory of running into her in the elevator floated back into your mind. She had a pair of six inch Louboutin heels, a fresh French manicure, and a Chanel purse hanging off her arm for crying out loud. You could’ve always asked someone else in the building but you didn’t want to make an embarrassing reputation for yourself quite just yet.

The clock ticked by, just about to reach the third hour when you heard the elevator doors ding open. You looked up and a bearded and very well-built man in a black sweater walked out. You couldn’t see his face because he hid it behind a navy blue cap and a pair of clear plastic Ray Bans sunglasses. Your head tilted slightly as you wondered why those sunglasses looked so familiar. You’d seen those exact pair on someone before, but you couldn’t remember who for the life of you.

The mystery man started to walk towards the door opposite yours. You watched him move, wondering if you knew him from somewhere; there was something about him that reminded you of someone. He was so busy texting he didn’t even notice you sitting on the floor until he tripped over your feet before you could move them out of his way. His head turned your way as you scrambled to your feet, you were about to apologize when he beat you to it.

“Sorry about that,” he winced. “I’ve been told I shouldn’t text and walk.”

Why does even his voice sound so familiar?

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have been obstructing the hallway.” You smiled and he mirrored it; you noticed how perfect his teeth was and how heart-fluttering his smile was. “Um- Are you living in that apartment?” You pointed to the door he was standing in front of, only realizing how stupid that question was after you said.

“Yes I am,” he nodded. “Are you the new neighbor?” He asked and you nodded. “I heard someone was moving in across the hall, I didn’t think it’d be a pretty girl.” He joked and you chuckled softly. “I suppose we’re going to be living out a cliché rom-con plot now that I’ve fallen for you.”

“What?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Oh my God,” he laughed and grabbed his left breast. “That was a really bad joke. Uh- I don’t- I was referring to the tripping and-” he rambled then pressed his lips together to stop himself. “You know what, don’t worry about it because that didn’t make sense at all.”

He’s cute when he’s nervous.

“So what uh- what are you doing obstructing the hallway?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you behind his sunglasses. “Are you locked out of your apartment? You know you can just go down to the lobby and ask for assistance, right? They’re very efficient here, pays to live in a high end apartment complex.”

“Um- actually uh- I was waiting for you,” you admitted then winced when you noticed him tense up.

“Look-” He suddenly didn’t seem as friendly as before. “I enjoy my privacy so if you want a photo and an autograph, I’ll give it to you as long as you promise not to tell people you’re my neighbor. I don’t need people swarming my front door.”

“No!” You held up your hands, trying to calm his nerves even though you didn’t really know what he was going on about. “I was waiting for you to help me kill a spider.” You said and his entire demeanor softened. “I didn’t even know if you were a boy or girl before I decided to wait out here so- whoever you are, you’re safe. I won’t tell anyone I’m your neighbor though I wasn’t planning to considering I don’t know who you are.”

“Oh,” was all he said.

“I can’t even see your face, man,” you chuckled.

“Right,” he pursed his lips. “Well- um- forget I said all that.”

“I would if I could,” you told him and he chuckled softly. “Now I’m curious as to who you are. From what you said I’m guessing you’re an actor. You do look kind of familiar but- it’s hard to tell in real life where I’ve seen you on the big screen. You all look crazy different in person.”

“Have you met many actors?”

“Enough,” you nodded and he waited for an explanation. “Don’t freak out when I say this but- I’m a journalist.” You saw him tense up again. “Oh my God,” you chuckled in disbelief. “I’m a journalist, not paparazzi. I’m more interested in writing about real things so you can calm down.”

“See I don’t know if I should be grateful or offended,” he commented and you laughed. “Well, since you have zero interest in me I might as well introduce myself.” He took his sunglasses off and revealed his face; your jaw dropped almost immediately. “I’m Chris Evans.”

Captain America.

You’re neighbors with Captain America.

Captain America is standing in front of you.

“I take that back,” he smirked at your stunned expression. “Perhaps you do have an interest in me after all.” You couldn’t find the words to respond, Captain America was your new neighbor. “So what’s the headline going to be?”

“If you think I’m going to share you, you’re insane.” You joked and he actually laughed. “Once again, Mr. Evans.” He made a face at that and you took it as a signal to use his first name instead. “I am a proper journalist, Chris. I don’t bother with celebrity gossip, at least not professionally.”

“But when I asked if you’ve met many actors, you said yes.”

“Yeah,” you giggled at his paranoia. “As a fan and not as a journalist, you dumb dork.”

“You’re calling me a dumb dork?” He scoffed and chuckled at the same time. “That’s rich coming from the girl sitting outside her apartment just to avoid a spider.”

“Oh,” you scoffed. “You want to go there? I am a fan of yours, Chris. I know you have a fear of spiders too and if you were me, you’d move houses instead of just sitting outside waiting for someone to get rid of it.”

“Okay, you got me there.” He said then laughed when you did. “But seriously though, have you ever pulled off your covers and seen one in your bed? ‘Cause I have and it was traumatizing.” You giggled. “I don’t know why you’re waiting on me ‘cause there ain’t no way I’m going in there. As pretty as you are, you’re not worth dying for.”

“Ouch,” you chuckled. “Can’t you just get your shield and help a girl out?”

“Hey, when beard’s out-” he pointed to his beard and you chuckled, “Captain America is off duty. I can call a guy for you though, get the place exterminated and cleansed so you’re good to move in without worrying about seeing one hanging out.”

“That means I’m going to have to haul all this stuff to a hotel,” you whined and he chuckled softly. “God, this is not a great start to a new beginning. I was so excited to get unpacked and have a nice hot bath in my new bathtub,” you told him and almost moaned just thinking about it.

“You’re more than welcomed to stay at my place until your apartment is ready,” he offered. “If I call the guy now- he can be here in like twenty minutes and be done by tomorrow. I’ve got a spare bedroom you can use, um-” he stopped talking when he saw how awkward you looked. “I’m being weird, aren’t I? I mean- we just met and I’m offering you a room in my apartment.”

“No,” you chuckled softly. “You’re being as sweet as I imagined you’d be,” you confessed and he smiled. “I just don’t want to imposed considering you like your privacy and have a serious fear of journalists. What will you do when I have to write? You might hover over my shoulder and make sure I’m not writing about you,” you teased him.

“Ha-ha,” he bit sarcastically. “Do you want a place to stay or not? It’ll be more convenient and a lot cheaper than a hotel.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s it cost?” You asked, completely aware you were using a line from The Winter Soldier. From the look on his face, you knew he could tell what he had to say next.

“A cup of coffee?”

“How about dinner instead?” You suggested with a smile.

He nodded then said, “see.” His smile grew wider as he continued, “I told you we were going to live out a cliche rom-com plot.” You stifled your laughter. “You know what, I changed my mind. I think I do like spiders after all 'cause they’re one hell of a wing man.”

Dumb dork.

Our Girl

Request: I’ve a request for you. There’s a few fics of Richard Speight/reader and of Rob Benedict/reader. I’ve got one for us girls that just can’t choose between the two of them. Rob/Rich/Reader I’ve yet to see one of those. The smuttier the better but if you’re not comfortable doing smut that involves two guys a clean one is better than nothing

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Classes start tomorrow, so I’ll work on the remaining requests when I can :) I saw that quite a few people got this same request, so if you write one of these tag me! Writing this just really made me realize how much I actually want to read it. Hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader x Richard Speight Jr.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, double penetration, threesome, explicit language, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 8769 (yeah you read that shit right)

Tagging: @sammyxorae @family-business-forever @totallysupernaturaloneshots @ashiewesker @negansgrimes @my-wayward-fandoms @hudine @lamthetwickster @owlluver @audreyholmes13 @crowleysprincess159 @seirensou @concentratedsassandcandy @bellastellaluna @baritonechick @just-a-touch-of-crowley @that-fanboy-doe @magnificentcherryblossomscreams @tumbleboof

Originally posted by lolabradbury

“Lay your weary head to rest! Don’t you cry no more!” The crowd’s enthusiastic singing filled the theater with a booming frequency, one that sent chills down your spine. It was Friday night, which meant it was party time, and your best friends, Rob and Rich, took that very seriously.

“Thank you, Friday people! You’ve made the first day of this convention incredible! Keep the energy up!” Richard shouted into the microphone, crossing the stage with an energized bounce in his step, his Game of Thrones costume hardly slowing him down.

As the rock music continued to blare, you felt someone step beside you, soft material brushing against your arm. You turned to look at Rob, who donned a full Khaleesi costume, dragon and all. Even though you had helped him into the costume quite a few times, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight.

Rob immediately threw his arms around you, lifting you and swinging you with a laugh, drawing cheers from the crowd.

“Oh, I want in on this!” Rich’s voice sounded a moment later as he came to Rob’s aid, immediately throwing himself at you to sandwich you between him and Rob. He wrapped his arms around Rob, grasping his friend’s back as the other followed suit, crushing you between their bodies.

“Really, guys?” You managed to breathe out, your hands trapped against Rich’s chest, which was rumbling with uncontrollable laughter. You could hear the crowd getting a kick out of your misfortune too.

“Whose hat is that? I know that isn’t yours,” Rich pointed out, eyes flashing down to the black baseball cap you wore backwards.

You smiled innocently, hearing a soft laugh from Rob. Maybe you had stole it off of Rich’s bed while he was finishing getting dressed in the bathroom. The three of you shared things all of the time. It was just a natural part of your friendship.

“Gee, Rich, someone’s been acting up lately,” Rob commented, the microphone catching his words and displaying them for all to hear. There were definitely a few whistles and catcalls within the responding screams and cheers.

“Uh oh. What are we going to do about that?” Rich replied, glancing over your shoulder to share an amused smirk with Rob.

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anonymous asked:

A teen sole saving one of the adult companions asses when they first meet? Teen sole getting frustrated when people say "you're just a kid, what do you know?" And decking them in the face and basically being very mature for their age.

((In my opinion, this wouldn’t be a common occurrence in the Fallout universe. People grow up a lot faster in harsh environments, and considering that in this universe sixteen is pretty much an adult, a teenager being talked down to doesn’t make a lot of sense. So, for the purposes of this reaction, Sole will be around twelve to thirteen.))

Cait: Focused on her current fight, she almost missed the chaos breaking out in the stands outside the arena. As she ended the match with a brutal blow to the back of the man’s head, she realized the gunfire blazing through the stands. The next thing she knew Tommy had pulled her into a corner as the battle in the bleachers continued.

Soon, the room fell silent, and… and a damn kid walked out, an over-sized wrench balanced on their thin shoulder like everything was cool. Blood stained the caps of their boots, and faint acne stood out on a grimy face. They hadn’t hit puberty yet, but the casually violent gleam in their eye spoke volumes.

“Uh, kid,” Tommy tried to begin, not quite sure what to say.

“Don’t call me kid.” The pipsqueak glared, hefting their wrench with a fierce look. “I just kicked all their asses. I ain’t a kid.”

Cait decided she liked ‘em.

Codsworth: He hummed a pleasant tune under his breath, or rather, low in his voice box. He wiped a semi-clean dishrag over the rusty car, and decided it looked much better after several hours of devoted scrubbing. (It did not.) But a clatter from the other room startled him, and the rag fell from his claw. His engine sputtering with nervous energy, he hovered back into the house, looking around for the source of the noise.

In one of the back rooms, the Mr. Handy found an adolescent, huddled in a corner of old nursery and trying not to be noticed. For a moment, something sharp and electrical rumbled in Codsworths’ torso. “Master Shaun?” he questioned, his voice soft.

They shook their head. A lock of hair shifted and revealed their face, and they didn’t resemble the old Master and Ma'am at all. A mix of relief and regret panged in the old robot’s chest. “Well. Ah.” His three-eyed gaze shifted to the toy car clutched in the young human’s hand. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Curie: She brushed dust from her lab coat, busy pouring over a selection of microscopes and bacterial samples. Test tubes clinked as she set them down in their tray, and let out a sigh of satisfaction as she plucked her gloves from her fingers. She turned around and gasped, jerking back as she saw a child leaning over her test tubes. “Eloigne-toi de là!” she exclaimed, pulling them away. “That is very delicate!”

“Yeah, I know. Bacteria, isn’t it?” The adolescent squirmed in Curie’s grasp. “You’re making medicine and shit. I recognize those names from the words on pill bottles.”

Curie stopped, looking down at the young human with parted lips and an expression of shock on her face. “Why, yes. Yes, it is!” Glee lit up her features, and she bombarded the thirteen-year-old with question, and upon learning that they were on their own, proceeded to semi-adopt them. The kid took a bit of issue with this, but was willing to indulge Curie’s maternal yearnings as long as they got paid in potato crisps and bottlecaps.

Danse: Grumbling to himself, he sat down and leaned over a dusty desk in the Cambridge Police Station, writing out reports to be sent back to Maxson. He was engrossed in his work when something… crinkled. He stopped, looking up in confusion. “What-?”

Not a sound.

He looked back down again, and began writing. The crinkling resumed, louder and more insistent. Danse sat up, scanning the room. “Haylen, this is inappropriate. Stop this at once.”


Hoping he’d done enough, Danse looked back down, only to hear the crinkling resume as though it was right next to his ear. He growled and lunged up from his chair, but all his irritation dissipated as he caught sight of the pre-teen hiding beneath his desk, a packet of chips in their hand. “…Yo,” they said.

“Hi.” Suddenly Danse wished it was Haylen after all.

“You gonna kill me?”


“Well, shit.”

Deacon: The agent pushed his sunglasses up his nose, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked around the settlement marketplace. He was keeping an eye on a strange, pre-teen kid that’d wandered into the market. He watched them look over the goods like he had all the time in the world, and then, much to Deacon’s amusement, steal several small items when the shopkeepers weren’t paying attention.

But unfortunately for the confident Scavver Junior, one of the guards caught them trying to pocket a few bottles of purified water. The kid made an admirable effort, dropping excuses and smiles and squirms to  a degree that impressed even Deacon, so much so that he stepped forward, pressing a hand to the kid’s shoulder and giving the cop a quick explaination. Tossing a small pouch of caps to the guard, he whisked the kid into a dark alley before anyone could catch them. 

“Thanks,” the kid grumbled, taking out a bottle of water. 

“What - I don’t get any? I saved you from being locked up. I think I get a sip, at least.” The kid grunted and handed Deacon the bottle. He lifted it to his lips, took a drink, and when he looked back down, Scavver Junior had vanished. When his surprise faded, a slow, approving smile curved his lips.

Dogmeat: The canine snuffled the ground, dark paws padding along the dirt as he trailed the human’s scent. Dogmeat was a smart dog - no one could argue he wasn’t. And he had a bit of a knack for determining what humans were for eating, and what humans were for protecting. And judging by this human’s smell… This one felt like they needed his help.

Bounding up over a hill, Dogmeat startled the adolescent, hissing as they stumbled back on their injured leg. Approaching slowly, his tongue lolling from his mouth so as not to be threatening, the dog walked up to the human, bumping his wet nose against their palms. Noting the coppery smell of the human’s leg, he barked and darted off, racing away so fast the kid almost thought he’d abandoned them.

But he returned a few moments later, a stimpack held between his jaws, only slightly slobbered. Accepting the gift, the kid stuck the much-needed medicine into their thigh, sighing in relief. “Good doggy.” They ruffled the canine’s ears, and Dogmeat was presented with a gift of burnt Radroach meat. This arrangement made both dog and human very happy.

Hancock: He’s having a discussion with Fahrenheit outside the Old State House when the front door of Goodneighbor creaks open. On habit, he observes the new guest in the corner of his eye. Short, skinny, with a weapon bigger than they were. Classy. The tiny ones were always vicious. But he sees, with a curl of his lip, Finn going over with a sly smirk on his lips. He catches the word ‘protection,’ and holds up a finger to hush Fahrenheit.

He turns around, his coat billowing out behind him. He’s about to interrupt, about to give Finn a piece of his mind, when Tiny reaches up and clocks Finn right in the jaw, sending the man staggering back, eyes crossed. Finn shakes his head clear and steps forward with a growl, and Hancock hurriedly intervenes. One dagger to the ribs later, Finn’s no longer a problem, and Tiny’s got their arms crossed and a fierce look on their face.

The ghoul grins. “Welcome to Goodneighbor, pal. I think you’ll fit right in.”

Nick Valentine: Pouring over a stack of case files, he sighs, rubbing his temples with his metal claw. The door creaks, and he lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at the strange look on Ellie’s face. “Uh… Someone here to see you, Nick.” She steps into the room, fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt, and the client walks in after her.

At least, Nick thinks it’s the client. Adolescents don’t generally come to private eyes. Either they need help locating a lost teddy, or something really, really bad happened to them. There’s no in between with kids. “What do you need, sport?” Valentine questions.

The kid scowls. “I’m not ‘sport.’ I’m Sole. And I need a favor. And if you’re gonna treat me like I don’t know what I’m talking about, I can take my business elsewhere.”

Nick’s eyebrows shoot into his forehead. He shares a brief look with Ellie, before gesturing to the chair opposite him at his desk. “Meant no disrespect. Please - take a seat. I’m all ears.”

MacCready: Winlock and Barnes grumble to themselves as they head back through the Third Rail. He thinks that’s the end of it, until light footsteps pad into the room, and he looks up, an eyebrow already raised before he even sees the intruder. It’s a kid, and the sour look on their face is enough to send his thoughts all the way back to Little Lamplight. “Yo. You a mercenary?” they question.

A smile tugs at his lips, but he knows grinning at this kid isn’t going to end well. He puts on his most serious face, and matches the kid’s gaze. “I am. You hiring?“ 

Seemingly pleased by the show of respect, the kid tosses a heavy sack of caps into his lap. “Sure as shit am.”

By the weight of it alone, Mac knows the bag is more than enough to buy his service. He grins. “Show me where to shoot, boss.”

Piper: “So who’s your friend, Nat?” She questions, looking between her sister and the pre-teen buying a paper. 

“I’m not her friend. I’m a customer,” the kid responds sharply. “Just passing through.” They hold out the paper, lifting their chin and making a show of reading the articles. Piper has to hold in a giggle. 

“Oh, of course. Sorry, my mistake.” The desire to smirk makes her lips twitch. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The kid narrows their eyes at her, not sure if she’s joking or being serious. “I dunno. Got any free caps lying around?”

“No, but I’ve got Colas and Gum Drops inside.” She tilts her head, gesturing to the house next door. She smiles. “That sound good enough?”

“Sorry,” they smirk in reply. “My mom told me never to take candy from strangers.”

Preston: Sweat beads down his face as he fires into the crowd of raiders below him. He’s switched to a different target, finger curling around the trigger when he realizes that it’s not a raider he’s aiming for. “Hey!” he shouts, without thinking. “Kid! Get out of here!”

Then, distantly, over the sound of gunfire and laser bursts: “Fuck off!”

He’s too busy trying not to die to be surprised. Though that changes when a few careful shots from the kid down a couple raiders, and soon it’s just them, standing in the middle of the road. “Jesus,” he murmurs. “Hey! What’re you doing out here?” he calls down.

A beat. “Looking for caps. The hell does it look like?”

The Minuteman is a bit taken aback. “Where are your parents?” He can feel the eyeroll from here.

“What the fuck do you think? I just killed these dudes for you, can you be a little less patronizing?”

A faint flush rises on Preston’s neck. “Uh. Sure. Yeah! Sorry!”

Strong: Excuse me? No self-respecting pre-teen (badass or otherwise) is going to willingly engage a clan of Super Mutants three times their size. Some crazy bastard is sending out a radio signal atop some skyscraper? Fuck that shit. Rex Goodman is gonna get eaten, and while that’s a shame, they aren’t about to go risking life and limb for a crazy person thirty stories up. No sir.

X6-88: He first encounters them while out on a mission. He’s passing through a semi-populated area, and scans the nearby buildings for life. He finds it, alright, scaring the (possibly literal) shit out of a hapless child. “Jesus!” The small human leaps to their feet, fumbling for a rifle and pointing it square at X6’s chest. “Back the fuck off, buddy.”

The Courser doesn’t flinch. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary, here? I am looking for information?”

“Are you fucking deaf, asswad? And what’s up with that accent? Seriously.”

X6 takes a deliberate step forward. “I asked you a question.”

The human’s hands curl around their weapon. “And I told you to back, the fuck, off. Buddy.”

The Courser doesn’t like the human’s insolent tone, and strides forward, prepared to clasp his hands around their neck. But sensing his aggression, they turn, leaping out a nearby window and vanishing. He lunges for the window, sticking his head out and looking around. No sight of them.


((Thanks for the ask, anon! I know it might be different than what you intended or expected, but I thought it was fun. I hope you liked it! Also… can you tell what Fallout child I took inspiration from? :P ))

Vibranium Heart (Captain America x Reader)


Word Count: 1, 296 (Sorry not sorry)

Warnings: Capturing, mention of pain

Steve rushed to Bruce’s lab. Natasha, Tony, Bruce, Clint and Thor looked at Steve who was breathless as he rested on the door frame trying to catch his breath. “There’s an attack.” He said. Tony’s eyes widened and didn’t hesitate to put on his suit. Barton quickly searched the attack and he found it in a few minutes. “It’s not far away from here. It will probably take us 3 minutes to get there. Suit up Cap!” Wanda and Pietro entered Bruce’s lab in just in time.

Natasha went to the helicopter and they all got in. The radar pinned down the attackers. “We found them. Good luck boys.” Natasha opened the helicopter entrance and  Steve, Thor and Tony flew down. As they landed, they were circled by Hydra soldiers armed with guns and grenades. As they were about to attack but Romalo walked up to Steve with a smile on his smug face. Pietro ran into the circle. “I think it was a bbad idea.” He whispered. “Ah Captain America! Just the man I wanted to see.” He paced around them in circles and let out a chuckle. “I have a surprise for you.” He signalled two of his agents and they made way for a tall man and he walked into the circle. A black mask covered is mouth. Steve’s eyes widened as he knew who it was. “Bucky?” He murmured.

“Oh and one more thing. Come out sweetheart.” You walked towards Romalo, smirking. Romalo snaked his arm around your waist and pulled in for a kiss. “Y/N!” Steve yelled. His eyes slowly watered and the heart aches came back. Steve was about to attack but was stopped by Tony.

“Steve I’m going shopping. Do you need anything?” You asked as you grabbed your handbag.

“You.” He said in a husky voice. You giggled and kissed his lips. “Call me if you need anything.” He got to his feet and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and inhaled his scent. “God you smell good.” You licked his sweet spot; he let out a moan. You gently released and reached for the door knob.

Originally posted by pleasingpics

“Later Steve.” You winked.

“Are you sure you wanna go alone?” He said in worry.

“I’ll be fine Stevie. I love you.” You smiled and exited the room.

Hours had passed and you didn’t give Steve a call or got home. He sent message after message and tried to call you but all his messages went to voice mail. “Hey babe. Are you okay? This is the 20th message I sent you. Please give me a call doll. I love you.” Steve threw his head back and closed his eyes. His phone rang and Steve quickly grabbed it. it was Tony. “Hey Tony,” Steve answered the phone.

“They got Y/N!” Tony shouted. Steve’s heart skipped a beat and a layer of warm sweat covered his body. “Who?!” Steve got out of his apartment that he shared with you. “Hydra.” Steve rushed to Stark Tower, knocking everything in his way. He stormed in Bruce’s lab, shivering and his eyes all red. “Where is she?” He banged his hands on the table. “We can’t track her down. But she called me.” Tony said. Tony played the voice mail. “Tony, it’s me Y/N. I’m going shopping. Do you guys need-” Your voice was cut off and was replaced by a male voice. “Hello Stark, Y/N is under my wing now so don’t worry about her. Oh and take a picture of Steve’s expression when you tell him.” Steve gave Tony his back. “I should’ve gone with her! This is my entire fault.” Steve wiped his eyes from the tears. “We’ll find her, don’t worry. Y/N is strong, she can handle them.”

Steve and the Avengers spent days, weeks, and months even years trying to track Hydra down but they got nothing. Steve spent his nights alone in the bed and he even left space for you so that when you return you could sleep next to him. But there was no sign of you.

You rejected Romalo and pushed him away. His tight grip around your wrist was about to leave a mark. “Come on Y/N. I thought you liked this. Or shall we let Cap do it?” You looked at the star spangled man whose eyes were red and wet with tears. You walked up to Steve who was perplexed. You cupped his face, leaned in and licked his sweet spot. His familiar moan made you snap back into reality. You blinked a few times and shook your head. “Sir, she’s back.” One of the agents reported. Romalo quickly got out a syringe with a blue serum and shoved it up your back. You let out a cold shriek as the cold liquid ran all over your body. You landed on all fours, trying to catch your breath. The pain was slowly spreading throughout your body. “Y/N!” Steve quickly squatted and helped you up. Bucky ran to Steve and pushed him back into a truck.

Originally posted by thelovedbird

You skin slowly turned into solid gold. Your vison was blurry; your talons gripped the jagged ground. You got to your feet and smirked. You ran towards Tony and began punching him. Bucky took Steve and the Hydra agents took care of the others.


The Avengers managed to take Bucky down but you were dragged back to Hydra. You were strapped on a stretcher; Romalo and some Hydra scientists came in the lab. “What do you remember?” Romalo asked as he put two metal pedals against your head. You were out of words; all the memories of Steve started coming back. “Steve.” You whispered. Romalo pressed a button and electricity passed through the metal pedals and through your body. Unwillingly your skin turned into gold which turned out to be worst. You felt the electricity felt as twice as painful. You screamed but one of the agents quickly put a wet cloth in your mouth.

Romalo removed his finger from the small switch and unbuckled you. Your body fell on the ground lifelessly. “Put her in her cell.” He ordered.


Bucky sat on the stretcher in Bruce’s lab. Bruce gently reached out to Bucky. “Hi Bucky, I’m Doctor Bruce Banner. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.” Bucky’s head hung low and he didn’t say a word. “We’re not going to hurt you. I promise.” Steve who was watching bit his lower lip and sat next to Bucky. “They took Y/N.” Bucky’s words broke the silence. “I know.” Steve murmured.

Originally posted by unlucky--bucky

“Do you know Y/N that well?” Bruce asked.

“I saw the scientists shock her and she’d end up on the floor after that. She’s beautiful and I tried helping her but I was afraid to approach her. She used to scream and cry in pain because of the serum. She even tried killing me but I don’t blame her.”

“Did she ever mention someone named ‘Steve’?” Steve had a million questions but he tried controlling them.

“Once when they brought her to Hydra. She said something ‘Steve will come for you!’ That’s all I remember.” Steve sighed and got up from the stretcher.

“Where is the Hydra compound?” Tony asked as he began searching on his computer. Bucky gave him the details.

Originally posted by thatplaidnerd

Steve took deep breaths and tried picturing you in his head; your beautiful hair, your smile, your bright eyes. “Tomorrow we’ll go.” He said.

“Tomorrow? Are you crazy?” Tony protested.

“If it were Pepper, you’d do the same thing.” Tony’s face went pale. “Fine. Tomorrow.” Bucky was taken in a room to spend the night. Wanda walked up to Bucky and began relaxing him with her magic powers. In a drop of a hat, Bucky was fast asleep.

Jackson Wang//Best Friend’s Brother - Part 4

It’s finally the summer, and that means you and your best friend are determined to go crazy and have the best summer ever - but her older brother’s come back from his gap year along with a couple of his friends, and they want to join in on the fun…
Scenario: fluff, angst, comedy, romance, smut in later parts
Word Count: 3079  

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

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Behind The Scenes - Misha Collins

Misha x Reader

Summary : You meet Misha at Con(Single!Misha).

You straightened out the leather jacket you were wearing as you stood by the stage. Chris waved to the audience as they screamed. You giggled as he began to fist pump as he sat. ‘Now cover your ears, here’s the Banshee’ You felt Chris Hemsworth slap your back and you walked out onto the stage. You waved to them as they cheered. You gave a small dance and Chris took your hand and gave you a twirl as you both laughed causing the crowd to scream louder as you both sat.

You smiled as Scarlett answered the question. ‘Y/n, she likes to call me Letty’ You shrugged blowing her a kiss. ‘My little Letty sounds cute though’ You said into the mic. She giggled. ‘But it’s weird when you hear over the intercom ‘Where’s my little Letty gone? I’ll come find you pretty, don’t you run off on me’ when we’re working’ The rest of the cast laughed and you waved her off. ‘That’ You told the audience. ‘Does NOT happen that often’ And they all started to laugh louder. You turned to see Robert nodding mouthing that it does.

Scarlett leaned into the mic. ‘So yeah, we have a lot of nicknames for one another. ‘Y/n especially’ You smiled. ‘Guilty, I like nicknames’ You told them. Robert leaned back in his seat whistling at you. You leaned back and leaned closer to him behind Chris E’s back. ‘Just warning you, I’m letting the cat out of the bag’ He chuckled and sat back up straight. You furrowed your eyebrows shaking your head in confusion at him

He turned looking down the table. ‘You want to know a really cute nickname though guys?’ Robert said into the mick and the audience answered. He chuckled. ‘Our good old Captain here-’ He patted Chris’ shoulder smirking at you two. ‘-has a lovely nickname for our Y/n’ You rolled your eyes at Robert. ‘He calls her Babe, all the time’ The audience started to scream. You and Chris looked at each other. ‘Thanks for adding fuel to the fire Rob’ Chris groaned.

For years the fans had been shipping you and Chris. It wasn’t that it annoyed you, actually both you and Chris played on it a lot actually. It amused you both. It was true the two of you were close, he was your best friend.

You leaned forwards into the table as the next fan stepped up. ‘Hey guys, I’m so happy to be here’ You smile. ‘So are we’ Hemsworth said and the girl giggled. ‘My question is for Y/n’ You smiled and stuck your tongue out at the others and the audience laughed a little. ‘Good choice’ You winked as you told her and they laughed more. ‘Eh-it’s said that you might be making an appearance on Supernatural’ You leaned back a little giving a small laugh. ‘Eh, well who know?’ You smirked and heard the crowd groan. ‘You all know I like to pop up in random movies and Tv shows. But I havn’t done Supernatural yet’ You shrugged. ‘But I’d love to, maybe I’d be a Monster and Dean will have to kill me’ You sighed happily. ‘I mean if Dean Winchester was the last thing I seen before I got my head lobbed off, I’d die pretty happy’ You laughed into the mic and heard the audience do the same

You waited until the laughter died down. You took a drink of your water. ‘Plus it looks like a lot of fun and the guys are amazing so yeah, if anyone’s here from the Supernatural crew, write me in’ You gave the audience a double thumbs up with a large smile. ‘Have you met any of them?’ She asked and you nodded. ‘Jensen and Mark, but none of the others’ You told her. ‘Who would be your favourite to meet?’ She asked again. You laughed. ‘You guys can keep a secret right?’ There was a chorus of yeses and you smirked. ‘Definitely Misha Collins, I mean, who wouldn’t? Have you seen that man? Those eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen’ Chris gasped beside you.

He put his hand on his heart. ‘You’ve hurt me’ He said into the mic. You giggled and leaned up pressing a kiss to his cheek and the crowd screamed. ‘I love ye Chris but-’ You let it hang for a second. ‘-oh come on, you’ve seen him. I’ve made you watch two seasons last week’  Chris laughed. ‘That’s true, she forced me to sit down and watch an entire two seasons, in a week. Last time I spend a week in your house’ You giggled at Chris’ appalled face and the crowd went wild. You raised your eyebrows at him. ‘But yeah, he is a beautiful man’ Chris sighed into the mic. You threw up your arms and did a little happy dance.

He chuckled shaking his head. ‘And-’ You leaned ‘-not to mention what an amazing actor he is. I mean the versatility of his acting is ridiculous. Plus not just that but he’s actually a pretty amazing person as well. I haven’t heard a bad word from anyone who knows him. I mean he’s very generous and kind and his GISHWHES is an amazing Idea. We’re actually taking part in it this year’ You waved your hand to the rest of the team.

You smiled at them. ‘And he’s very funny, I mean. He’s hilarious, have you seen his interviews, cos I have’ You giggled shrugging. ‘Aaand someone stop me before I embarrass myself’ You let your head fall against the table as the cast laughed. ‘I think you’re well past the darling’ Big Chris laughed on the other side you you patting you back as the audience laughed.

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You were lying on the couch, hugging a soft pillow when Tony poured you another glass of whiskey. Only the two of you remained in the living room and the rest of the Avengers were already sleeping in their rooms. You looked at the billionaire, smiling and reaching for the glass. 

“How about we play a game?” Tony suggested, looking into your eyes and smirking. He handed you the glass and leaned against the backrest. “Don’t worry. It won’t be spin the bottle." 

"So what do you suggest?” you asked, lifting your eyebrows and taking a sip of the alcohol. You made yourself more comfortable on the sofa. You were half sitting, still hugging the pillow and holding the glass. “But I must warn you,” your index finger was up in the air, threatening him, “at this state I’m in, you’ll be able to know a lot of my dirty secrets,” and then you laughed. 

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the second chance hotel

big props to the stud @bigdimbros for helpin me wit the spelling…


It was finally over.  We were done our undergrad: all of the late nights of study and the long hours of test prep had paid off. Jared, Chris, Michael, Dan, and i were finally all done.  We had just walked out of our last exam and were on our way out to the coast for a week of well-deserved rest.

Dan picked out the place. I couldn’t believe we got it so cheap. We had two rooms in a grand old hotel. Honestly, though, it seemed more like someone’s mansion.

Creepily, though, it felt like we were the only people there.

As soon as we arrived, we went straight to the bar.  It was past noon, so we felt that we were well within societal boundaries to consume some alcohol.  The place was totally deserted. There was one bartender - a tanned, muscled guy who looked ready for spring break to start up again.

“Hey guys” he greeted us warmly… “What’ll it be?”

“We’re gonna need shots!” i said.  "We just finished our last exams - now its time to loosen up and kick back!“

"I hear that,” said the bartender pulling down a bottle.  "You all seem like a bunch of smart dudes,“ he pointed the bottle tip at me, “what’s your major?”

"Double major,” I puffed out my chest, bragged, "math and physics!”

A gleeful smile crossed the bartender’s face. He poured five shots. They were a bright red color and went down easy.

Soon, we were lost in an afternoon of craft beer mixed with sugary shots.  I had never let myself go so much. I knew I didn’t have to wake up early for once. That 7 AM physics lab I taught all semester damn near killed me.  I felt like I owed myself a good drunken night out.

We all stumbled back to our rooms. Chris, Jared, and I shared one. Dan and Michael shared the other.  I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I didn’t wake until there was a scream from the other room.

Chris, Jared, and I rushed over.  The scream had come from Michael who was standing in a towel, soaked, like he’d just come out of the shower.

He was looking at Dan.

Dan, normally, was our pudgy friend with the thick glasses and the heart of gold. Our Dan, who had the buzz-cut hair because he never wanted to think about it.

Dan was about a hundred pounds lighter than he was last night. His hair was newly shaggy and blond, cut like some kind of a surfer.  This Dan had abs.  This Dan had pecs. Not huge pecs but they were there, they were clear. Unlike the rest of us, this Dan wasn’t looking at all freaked out.

"Like… what’s up hun?” he said. Lilting, light.

“Uh…Dan buddy…do you notice anything weird?” Jared asked, a little shaken.

Dan hopped out of bed. To our shock he was wearing a lime green thong. He shuffled over and looked at himself in the mirror. Carefully. You could almost hear the gears grinding in his brain.

“Yah…” he said slowly, intensely staring at his thick pointer finger running through the center groove of his eight-pack.  "I thoud be totes hungover right now.  thweet!“

What should we have done? Taken him to the doctor?  For some reason it never occurred to us. It’s only now, in this one moment of clarity that I understand. We couldn’t do anything that morning. I felt like we should drive Dan to the hospital, and I bet the rest of the boys did too. The hotel kept us tranquilized. So, instead we went for breakfast.

Though the day it turned out that Dan didn’t just look different. He talked different too. Permanently. He called us “hon” or “babe” or “gurl” a lot. And he wanted us to call him the same. He’d answer to Danni, but only if you insisted…  and that lisp!!

Also… I never knew a thing about Dan’s sex life. I do know for sure that Danni was super gay. Whistle at bros on the boardwalk gay. Take ‘em back to the room for a quickie gay.  Brunch was like his spirit animal.

We were all nervous about what had happened. People don’t just turn into the swishy version of themselves overnight, do they?  None of us could get the energy to call the cops, though.  Instead all we could do was return to the bar, keep getting drunker. All of us that was, except for Danni - he was up in the room getting laid by some guy we could have sworn was with his girlfriend wen we saw him on the beach. Danni had gone up to him wearing his white and pink booty shorts, sporting an obvious hardon. Goodbye girlfriend! Haha that was classic Danni for you.

We still remembered Dan… but it felt like reality was.. healing… up aound Danni. His whole suitcase was full of those booty shorts and we were getting less freaked out by the hour…

"You gotta admit,” Chris said "Danni’s hot…ya know, if you were into dudes…”

"Haha! Is there something you need to tell us Chris?” Jared laughed.

When it came time to stumble upstairs, Michael practically begged Chris to swap beds with him.

Chris looked Danni over critically. Well, as much as he could eight drinks in. Chris was a tall skinny guy, like a pipecleaner. He was fucking shitfaced. I noticed a weird look in his eye.  Sure Danni was a fag now but he was also a walking sex dream.  Chris was probably sizing him up for fuck, drunk as he was.

“Sure whatever” Chris said, nonchalantly. He and Danni stumbled off.  Meanwhile Jared, Michael and I went to our room.

“I’m gonna grab a shower guys” said Jared. Michael and I took the beds, leaving Jared to the cot.  I remember hoping that nobody else was gonna turn into a Danni overnight.

Ten minutes later there was a crash in the bathroom. A big, heavy crash.  Michael and I went to go see if Jared was alright. We were afraid he had hit his head or something worse.

Well… he hadnt hit his head… but he had fallen.  He was like a half a foot shorter. Jared was now about five feet tall, but built like a brick shithouse. I thought Danni had sprouted a chest but Jared had PECS. BIG FUCKING MUSLCE TITS. Abs. An enormous ass. There he was, buck ass naked, giggling like a schoolgirl in the shower.

“Wanna join me bois?” he asked with a little shake of his plump ass. His shirt but thick cock swung opposite his frequency.  "Come on in and let me suck you all off…or maybe one of you wants to fuck this hole while I suck the others off? C’mon out boys…the waters fine!“

You wouldn’t think we needed to make an excuse… but each of us did. Something just didn’t feel Right. I, for instance, said I just really needed to read my book. We each backed out slowly.  

"So…um…” Michael stammered.


“I guess Jared might as well share a room with Danni”

A half hour later we delivered a fucking fabulous version of “Jer” - as he insisted we call him - over to Danni.  Jer liked tight muscle shirts and athletic shorts and backwards ball caps - you wouldn’t think it’d take half an hour to put that all on but Jer wouldn’t leave the room until he was “fine an fuckable”

Chris answered the door. Still the same old Chris thank god- but he looked a little disappointed when we pulled him away back to our room.

“Oh my god!  Honey you make thuch an awthum himbo!  You wanna fuck or get fucked?” we overheard through the door as we made a retreat back to our room.  Well… that and the bedframe pounding on the wall…

I’m glad I practically blacked out. I don’t think would have slept otherwise. I kept having these dreams about a wizard with a magic wand that came into our room and pottered us into sissy fags like Jer and Danni. I woke up in a cold sweat.

I was almost surprised the next morning when we were all still ourselves. That didn’t last long.  I was in the shower trying not to think too loud (it had been a long time since I thought drinking the hangover away was a good idea).  Michael had gone to wake up Danni and Jer (turned out those fuckers had been uh…UP for hours already - no hangovers for them just hard ons) and Chris was getting dressed.

When I came out of the bathroom, Chris was only barely Chris. He was still tall and had the same face, but his body had filled out - a lot.  He looked like the supercharged quarterback of a  pro football team. Athletic but not perfectly cut - this body was made for the field not just a photo shoot. I couldn’t see his naked dick (thank fuck) but I could see his sizeable package wrapped tight in a pair of under armor boxers.

“Yo!” he said.  "Look what happened man…ain’t this totally great?“


“What’s wrong bro?” asked Chris

“Like O M Geee!” Danni said from the door.  Jer followed up with a “Hello boyfriend material!”.

Michael just rolled his eyes.  "Fuck…really? Okay ‘bro’ what’s your name?“

"Ha…ya my friends call me Topher” said the hunked out version of Chris.  "You should kno that! You’re my bros!“ he laughed the dumbest, most vacuous laugh I have ever heard in my life.

If the bottle blond hair didn’t give it away, the growing bulge while he checked out Danni promised that this was also the gay version of Chris.

Topher was like the all-american boytoy. He wore flip flops, board shorts, and a crew neck muscle t that stretched across his chest, revealing very prominent nipples.  When he wasnt ordering bacon and eggs with a bud on the side, he was checking out the ass of every dude in sight. He mostly talked about beer, football, and getting ass. I’m sure that’s all he thought about too.

I admit I’m surprised we still all got along so well.  Michael and I were suddenly two straight nerds in a group of oversexed fags. We’d all been friends 4 years, that much was the same.  Conflicting memories were in our minds - getting into the honor society with Chris battled with the memory of cheering Topher on at his first college game. Late nights of d&d were conflicting with strip shows we’d been dragged to at the local gay bar.

Somehow we still weren’t calling the doctors.  This didn’t make any sense.  What was going on? There wasnt any pattern.  I had a double major in math and physics an I couldn’t see the pattern.

All day I think Michael and I were just waiting for the eventual.  I started wondering what we’d turn into.  Strippers?  Drag queers?  Most of the gay dudes we’d known in college had been just pretty normal dudes who happened to like dick but whatever was happening to us it wasn’t like that.

We still just kept spending time chilling at the beach and drinking at the bar.  Just a regular vacation with our three best friends who all turned porn-star gay overnight.

Michael and I took the small room that night and the fuckfest in the next room kept running through my mind. I dropped in and out of sleep, making sure that our curse hadn’t hit me or Michael while we were unconscious.

It didn’t hit Michael until almost noon the next day.  I had almost forgotten how fucked up the entire situation was until Michael went up to the room for a nap. Twenty minutes later our amateur bodybuilder Mikey came down the stairs.

He was huge. And he knew it. And he loved it.  He liked to go around in as little clothing as possible. He would only ever put on a speedo, and even then only when we left the hotel room.  It got…awkward when he saw the bartender for the first time - Mikey almost popped outta his pouch.

Just like a bodybuilder he was fucking obsessed with his tan…so sure enough it was a nude beach when Mikey decided it was. That suited the others just fine - Jer especially loves to run around naked.

The conversations were so real…

"I’m telling you Danni… you bulk up a little an you’re gonna be a total stud!” Mikey would say

“Ugh…” says Danni “and ruin my figure?! No way - I don’t need ta be covered in muscle - ma bubble butt does all the advertising I need”

Theyd both laugh. Mikey would call Danni a whore…Danni would call Mikey a beast and Jer would just slip his big hands to his lycra-covered crotch and start playing with himself.  Topher just kept giving us an earful of his dumass laugh.

I spent all day hanging out with the cast of sluts in the city until I finally broke. I was in a room with Mikey and Jer in the other bed.  Mikey was pounding Jer’s ass without even thinking about me in the next bed over. From the sound of it, Topher was enjoying himself with Danni’s hole too. I wanted the room to myself – I was sure they’d all be happy to share a bed.

That night was when I decided to run.  It had gone from a maybe that I’d be next to a certainty.  I didn’t like anything I had seen so far - a bubbly twink…a slutty himbo…Mr boytoy himself and an oiled up lunk.  None of those is my idea of a good life.

I… I wasn’t just going to give up and become a gay whore!

I was smart! I was confidant and brilliant and I had the whole world in front of me! I had job offers piled up on my desk back home. I had a future…these freaks were living solely for today now. Their futures completely obliterated like their brain cells.

I needed to be in charge of my life.

I decided to wait until we all went down to the beach. Then I’d make an excuse an go up to the hotel room and take my bag and catch the next bus back to the city.  I’m sorry guys but youre on your own to get home - if you ever do.  I’m gonna ditch our apartment an take one of those job offers far, far away.

We finished up brunch and Mikey suggested that we go down to the beach like it was some brilliant plan.  Everyone agreed and I said I’d meet then down there. I said I had to piss.

I headed to the room.

Heavy footsteps behind me.

I turned around

It was the bartender looking like the fuck-brain jersey-shore-reject he probably was.  All tan muscles tight clothes and hair gel. Maybe he was the guy making this all happen, or maybe he was just another victim like my friends.  Whatever.  I wasn’t going to be a victim

“You cant escape, he said, "So dont even try…”

I went into my room and slammed the door.  He followed me in.  Duh! Staff have keys! I chastised myself for that.

I tried to ignore him…focus on throwing my shit into my totebag.

“You’ve already been committed since you had those first shots” said the bartender.  "Mostly I’m just weirded out that you went this many days without jerking off.“

Just ignore the…

"What?” I implored out loud.

“The shots I gave you.  They turn you into a gay fantasy.  The only question is which one.  Your friend Danni only lasted a night before he cummed, so he’s a pretty vanilla twink.  Knows he’s hot an dresses the part…but you can find 20 of those in any club. Boring. Uninteresting. Not very valuable.”

“Honestly most dudes can’t even wait that long…I’ve had dudes check out barely bi.  Most get as far as being dedicated cocksuckers but your group dude… your friends were seriously repressed.  Plus when college guys share rooms you gotta plan a sock on the door you know?”

“Then your pal Jer.  Rubbed one out in the shower that night.  He lasted long enough to turn into a pretty hot himbo – he’s got any job he wants dancing.  He’s not even dumb…he just thinks about cock so much there isn’t room for anything else.”

I’d stopped packing.  There was only one thing I heard really clearly… “So all i have to do is not cum…”

“But you’re gonna.” said the bartender.  "Like… every dude cums.  Even if you cage it up or just never touch your dick again youre still gonna have a wet dream or something.  Men cum.  Thats what we exist for.“

"Now your boy Topher - he must have waited until he had the room to himself for a couple minute and then he went to yank.  He waited long enough that now we have a totally basic slutty jock - lots of muscle…lots of confidence…not too much happening up in the brain dept. You can rent a guy like him out for serious cash every night. And he’ll love it!”

“And then there’s Mikey.  You know that nap was just an excuse to explode the volcano…he’s a bodybuilder now …prob’ly gonna spend life as a personal trainer.  He can count reps an’ calories like a pro but that’s all he counts. You didn’t notice but mikey bought you all breakfast cause he didn’t wanna figure how to split the check.  He’d love to split my ass though.”

“The longer you wait, the more extreme it gets. The more your cock is gonna lead you into the places no straight man even knows about. To be honest, the longer you wait, the more masc youre gonna be.”

“So you got a choice bro…how long are you gonna wait?”

Then the bartender just left…quick as he came.

I wonder how quick he actually came…assuming he took the drink…just how deprived is he?  He definitely made it longer than Danni…maybe even longer then Jer…but I’d bet if I told him to bend over he’d be eating pillow before I got my fly unzipped.

What if he was lying and the curse only worked at this hotel…that was fucking ridiculous though…but no more ridiculous then some potion that turns you into a fag.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this…but what was the alternative? I had to turn myself before I got too kinky.

I whipped my cock out and tried to think of something sexy.  It had been a few days so it didnt take long for me to be at full burn.

There were footsteps coming up the stairs. The heavy ones had to be Mikey…

I pumped fast…but before I could bust a nut Jer showed up.

“Hi boyfriend!” shouted Jer in that perma-excited voice he has now.  "Let me help you with that!“

They were all there.  Mikey and Jer and Topher and Danni. Cocks were coming out to tug it with me.  Jer was on his knees working my dick with his whore mouth an his stubby cock with his practised hand. I felt fucking incredible.

I feel like they all knew…course they knew what they were doing.

"I’m gonna blow” I gasp.  Even at the last minute some part of me was trying to hold back.  Trying to keep it from happening.  Trying to hold onto my nerd ass a little longer…but I was past the point of no return. Jer had just sucked harder wen I said it.

I looked across the room at a mirror.  My straight ass was in the middle a jerk orgy that even I found hot.

I could see Mikey beating his little dick and Topher stroking a cock that was gonna be legendary in this town. Danni had simply collapsed on the bed an started vigorously fucking a dildo.

These were my friends

These were my bros

No these were…

My cock exploded in Jers mouth.  I saw him take my huge load like a pro…it only started leaking out down his chin cause he literaly couldnt fit anymore

i exploded too.  my skinny frame burst out with heavy swollen muscle.  my balls dropped like sumone had thrown a bag of gold in my lap…an my fuckstick…i was a fuckin 10" monster.  i’d hurt goin in any ass i picked

an then theyd never feel full again…i wuz definitely…

i looked in the mirror again…i wuz older than the others…i looked maybe 30 or so… an i wssnt smooth like them either…just enuff dark hair that ud never doubt i wuz a real man

never doubt that these were my boys

never doubt thst i wuz…

“So wats ur name bro?” asked topher

never doubt that i was there…

“Master.” i said

wait…wuz that rite?  whatever…there wiz fresh cum churning in balls an it needed release


like hi gurls!  its me danni.  this is where i have to take over the story telling.  once master joined the rest of us in our new dubble awesum lives he stopped talking so much… actually he stopped talkin at all.  'master ’ wuz the last word he ever said.

we were all in the smaller of our two hotel rooms - room 69 of thr second chance hotel.  u like that room name?  i renamed all of them myself… the room where i first changed in now known as 'room DTF’.

i wuz busy reaming out my boipussy with this awesum rubber cock that i found in jer’s luggage. but inremember stopping for just a second when master emerged

he wuz amazing.  like a total god yknow?  i wasnt really into the whole master/boy thing but well… im getting ahead of myself

topher looked confused about what was goin on til jer kissed him…snowballing sum of masters cum into his dumb mouth…then he understood.  he had a physical need to obey master now

next jer kissed mikey.  the bodybuilder gave an animal grunt wen he tastdd the cum and felt masters powrr over him

and last wuz me…now my twink ass does watever my master commands.  i’m still not into master/boy porn or anything…but i kno fo sho that hes my master an i’m his boi.  simple science fact

jer swallowed the remaining cum.  he understood his place in life - an he knew how awesum it wuz

“welcome home master” said Jer…

master gave out a deep grunt.  he had a cockhungry look in his eyes.  pure sex drive

i knew he wanted my ass doggy style.  it felt like the most natural way to receive an order from my master deep in the animal part of my brain

an without question, i bent over presenting master with my twinky ass..i have a firm hole an gurl i luv to put it 2 use

topher handed me a bottle of lube.  i gave my hole a generous dose then lined up against masters cock.

him thrusting in and out of me felt like the best thing i ever done.  this wuz my fuckin birthrite

i came wen master did an just soaked the bed in my sweet cum.  i eagerly licked it up because when master grunted his dumb grunt i knew what he wanted

i found sum clothes in my masters bag an dressed him.  a leaher thong that looks like it got painted on him.  i found his boots.  so natural that they were his boots.

by the time we made our way downstares master had to stop an ruined mikeys ass for any lesser man too.

still he said nothin…just those stupid an sexy grunts.  i dont kno for sure but i think master has his brain totally outta the loop.  i think we"re getting orders direct from his horny cock

“can i help u sir?” said the clerk at reception. master moved rite past him into the managers office.  nobody could say no to him

“hello sir… what can i help u with?” said the manager.  he wuz this fussy little fag…maybe 50 an goon bald.  i dunno if he wuz a fag to start i guess…but to minutes in he wuz eating masters cum an staring up at him in worship"

“come with uth doll” i said

he nodded…unable to resist the pull of a real master.  we ked him to the empty bar where that bartender was polishing glasses

“Ah…hello.  u decided to join us then…” he said looking at masters huge bulge stuffs into his thong"

master grunted in return.  everyone in the room got a little harder

“you better believe it honey” i said. “.  now…about ur thpecial drink…u made it?”

“you got it…” said the bartender. “so the bug guy doesnt talk huh?”

“master doesnt need to thpeak 4 us to obey his will…your invention?” i asked.  i could feel masters will steering my wirds

“yeah…he said.”. sorry tho one shot per customer. no redos :)

“ith for him” i said an pushed the manager forward.

a few seconds later the manager had downed the red liquid

“Look gurl - u wait til tomorrow morning.  then u jerknoff like ur life dependth on it…i guess it does actually”

“tomorrow morning…” the manager stuttered

“yeah…any sooner an i’ll make thure u never touch your pathetic dick again…got it babe?” i asked

he nodded then made a retreat to his office.

“interesting how he turned out” said the bartender.  "i never made a master b4 an ive watched guys go even a little longer.  maybe theres sumthing special abiut him…“

"oh fo sho” i said

“i dont kno wat u did to the manager but u should kno i cant get push around so easy” he warns me

“dont worry…were masters bois.  once u tastd his cum its like u grt hooked rite up to what his cock dethireth” i gestured at the group behind me.  "but ur his partner…this hotel is under new management.  i’m gonna fill this place with the kind of men who need changing…underthand?  and ur gonna change em"

the bartender thout for a minute

“deal.  he said reachin out hisbhand.  "partners”

we shook on it. master wuz busy getting blown by jer

the next day we had a new manager - sure he wuz a little young 4 the job but he sure luvd to please the guests.

a few days later we had a new staff of receptionists…all charming young men- enclusing topher.  he checks guys in an if theyre lookin good he checks them out too.  then he takes there bags up to the room".  if the tip is big enuff he’ll stay all nite

Im masters personal assistant now…my ass is ready to go wenever he needs a quick distraction.  thats usually no more than four times before noon.  he like to sleep in

mikey heads up our gym.  he doesnt sit at the desk ever but he checks every peace of equipment on every man in there at lesst once a day…

jer is in charge of entertainment.  thats whatever he decides it is.  master has been growing his kinky side lately - rite now hes all about rubber jockstraps an nothing else.  jocks are a good choice for jer - his ass is for anyone but master has got his lock on Jers cock.  

these days the hotel is moving faster then my cock in jers hole.  the bar is always packed…the hotel is booked solid…an we break a bed almost evety night.

i do my tour every day to make sure things are running smooth an everyone is lubed up nocely.  i walk past reception - topher is there - an a confused looking man walks in.  i recognize him as a conservative preacher whose always spewing his hate on tv…he’s here because master called him an commanded him to cum.  nobody says no to master

i overhear topher say “welcome to the second chance hotel sir.  i see ur reservation says u’ll need to be staying with us for to nights.  if u’ll follow Zane here to the bar for a complementry drink ill take ur bags up to ur room”